


A Very Edgy Supernatural Birthday: Part 2 (The Sam Edition)

by spectaculacularsammy



Series: Not Unless Sam Says [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Birthday Presents, Birthday Spankings, Dom!Sam, Dom/sub, F/M, Frottage, Light Bondage, Lingerie, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Pussy Spanking, Rimming, Sam Talks Dirty, Sam's Birthday, Sam's a little possessive in this chapter but we all knew that, Sam's filthy mouth, Sam's mean when he's old ;), Sex, Spanking, Teasing, a little bit of alcohol, butt plug, playing pool, public oral sex, some feels but I THINK it's adorable, sub!Reader, your naughty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Sam's birthday, and you do what he wants to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second year being a fanfic writer and I just couldn't let today go without posting a b-day fic for my favorite guy.
> 
> And as always, a huge thank you to ladyataralasse. She was sleepy, but she suffered through and read this over. She's awesome.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: [HERE](http://spectaculacular-sammy.tumblr.com/)

Since the Sheriff’s station is just a few blocks from the motel, and Dean’s got the Impala on the other side of town, checking out leads, you and Sam decide to just walk back to the room. On the way, the two of you pass a coffee shop. Because it’s crowded, you offer to go inside to get the coffees, but Sam says that he’ll do it.

Waiting outside the shop, you look up and down the street, holding the hem of your Fed skirt to your thighs, so that the wind doesn’t pick it up and force you into a full-on Marilyn Monroe-over-the-steam-grate-moment. Sure, it’s Sam’s birthday, and while you know a reenactment of the famous steam grate scene would make him chuckle – after he got your skirt down over your ass – Sam’s never been big on the birthday thing.

A few minutes later, Sam comes out of the coffee shop with two coffees and a white paper bag with sandwiches. He leads you over to a small table and chairs, and the two of you sit and eat lunch.

A couple bites into your sandwich, you ask, “There’s a bar just a couple of blocks from the motel. You want to go get a couple of beers later?”

“Sure.” Sam shrugs and takes a drink of his coffee. “But you did hear Dean say that the place was a total dive, right?”

Most bars in one horse towns all looked the same. Same clientele, same juke box with scratchy songs from the wrong era, and the same dirty, scuffed-up floors. You smile. “Aren’t they all?” You almost add something along the lines of, _We could go someplace nicer_ , but you don’t. You just reach up to rub the back of Sam’s neck and take a drink of your coffee.

With a mouthful of his sandwich, Sam returns your smile, nods his head in agreement, and the two of your sit in a comfortable silence, finishing your lunch.

On the walk back to the motel room, Sam wraps an arm around your back and whispers in your ear, “I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not _doing_ anything,” you protest innocently. “The case was a bust, but we still checked everything out anyway. The room is paid for through the night, so I thought all of us deserved a beer or five for a job well done.”

“And you weren’t going to suggest that we go someplace nicer than the dive bar down the street?”

“Not that I know of,” you lie. Sam’s got a smirk on his face, but he raises an eyebrow, knowing that you’re lying. You sigh heavily like a fourteen year old. “Earlier, yes, but I _didn’t_.”

Sam unlocks the door and opens it for you, patting your ass as you walk inside the room. “Good girl.”

Channeling your inner fourteen year old, you sigh again and roll your eyes, then gasp when Sam swats your ass just hard enough to make it sting. “It’s _your_ friggin’ birthday,” you mumble under your breath. “ _You’re_ the one who’s supposed to get birthday spankings.”

After swallowing a laugh – because you’re _so damn_ cute when you’re grouchy – Sam forces his voice sound like something resembling authoritative when he asks, “What was that?”

Not seeing the look on Sam’s face, you think he’s mad. Fully aware that lying again is not in your best interest, you turn around and softly sigh, “I _said_ , it’s your friggin’ birthday, and _you’re_ the one who’s supposed to get birthday spankings.”

“I see.” Sam bites the inside of his cheek so that he doesn’t smile and checks his watch. “Dean’s going to be back any minute. Why don’t you change out of your Fed clothes, and we’ll talk about _that_ later.”

“Yes, Sam,” you answer softly and take your bag from him when he hands it to you, then walk toward the bathroom.

When the door is closed behind you, Sam finally lets himself laugh quietly; he’s got a plan that will give him what he wants and you what you want. Quickly, Sam texts Dean and tells him to take his time getting back to the motel room. It takes Dean a minute to answer him back, then Sam grabs his own bag and joins in you in the bathroom.

-

Carefully, so that you don’t wrinkle them, you fold your blazer and skirt and put them on the counter top while you brush your hair and wash away your Fed make-up.

You get why Sam’s not a fan of his birthday; some horrible crap has happened. He doesn’t need a yearly reminder – or a reminder at all – of some of the worst times in his life, but it’s not like you want to get him a cake and ice cream or paper hats and streamers. All you want to do is make the day nice for Sam, show him how much you love and appreciate him, and do the things that he wants to do. Unfortunately, the thing that Sam wants to do is not do anything to celebrate his birthday at all.

Pulling some clean clothes out of your bag, your fingers brush against a piece of paper. It’s not an ordinary piece of paper, it’s a card – not a birthday card, just _a_ _card_ – and it’s tucked inside a deep blue envelope that simply says, ‘Sam’ on the outside.

Sighing, you hide the envelope and the little blue box that goes with it between a folded pair of jeans and zip up your bag.

A second later, Sam knocks on the bathroom door. “_______? Can I come in?”

“Yup.” You turn the door handle and open the door a couple of inches. When Sam walks in, you ask, “Dean back yet?”

“Not yet.” Sam closes the door behind himself, and you hear the lock flip. Taking your waist in his hands, Sam walks you over to the counter top. “Hop up.”

You do what he says, but still look at him, confused.

“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly.”

“Sure.”

“Does not doing anything for my birthday really bug you that much?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“No.”

Sam does that eyebrow-raise thing again.

“A little,” you admit.

“How come?”

The fact that Sam doesn’t get it makes you want to wrap him in the softest blanket that the world has ever seen for at least a week. Unfortunately, you don’t currently possess said blanket, so you hold up your hand and show Sam the silver ring that never comes off of your pointer finger. “You got me this for my birthday last year. We _always_ celebrate my birthday. How come not yours?”

Sam sighs, but the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile. “I’m not going to win this am I?”

“Definitely not.” You kiss Sam’s smile. “But if you want me to shut up about it, just tell me, and I will. I promise I won’t say another word about it.”

Shaking his head, Sam pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head. “So, if you could, what would you do for my birthday?”

Even though you’ve thought about this exact moment a million times, every idea that you’ve ever had seems to fall short, but then, surprisingly, the perfect one comes to mind. “I’d ask you to be selfish for a day and tell me what _you_ want to do. It’s _your_ day.”

Needing to take a second, Sam buries his face in your hair and just holds you. “Do I have to decide right now?”

Tightening your arms around Sam’s waist, you answer, “Of course not.” After a minute passes, you quietly ask, “Can I make a suggestion?”

Sam smiles into your hair, kisses the top of your head one more time, and then pulls away so that he can look at you. “Sure.”

“Sometimes, birthdays are like multi-course meals.”

It’s Sam’s turn to look confused. “What?”

“Often times, before or after the commencement of a birthday, there is an… _appetizer_ , if you will.” Sam keeps looking at you like he has no idea what you’re talking about, so you add, “There’s this thing called, birthday sex.”

That makes Sam laugh. “I’m aware of the concept.”

You innocently shrug. “Just saying, it might be a good place to start, while you decide what you really want to do.”

Only offering you his hand, Sam helps you up off the counter and turns you around. Rubbing your ass through your panties, Sam mischievously says, “You did say something about birthday spankings….”

Pushing Sam’s hand out of the way, you shield your ass. “It’s _your_ birthday.”

Kissing your shoulder, Sam tells you, “I’m aware.”

Looking at Sam’s reflection you say, “I don’t foresee _my_ hand making it through thirty-three birthday spankings on _your_ ass.”

“Are you suggesting a butt proxy?” Sam questions with a sly smile, then knocks your hands out of the way and starts rubbing your ass again. “’Cause I know a good one.”

“No, no, _no_ ,” you laugh, shaking your head and turning around to hide your ass from Sam. “I think my ass got enough on my birthday to last me until the next one.”

Reaching down to kiss you, Sam breathes against your lips, “I seem to remember you saying that this was _my day_.”

You pout. “ _Saaaaam_.”

“What?” Sam teasingly laughs. “You’re the one who said it. _You_ said that it was _my_ _day_ and that I could be selfish and do what I wanted to do.”

“And of all the things you _could_ do, you want to spank me?”

Sam shows you another sly smirk before he kisses you again. “I always want to spank you.”

“My ass and I are well aware of that fact,” you mumble just barely loud enough for Sam to hear, and you watch the grin on his face change to puppy dog eyes. “Fine!” You throw your hands up in the air and laugh. “But _be nice_. If I have to ride back to the bunker on my stomach, I’m going to be pissed.”

“Oo-kay,” Sam scoffs sarcastically.

Pretending to be indignant, you push your panties down your hips. “This is _not_ birthday sex.”

“No,” Sam agrees, taking off your bra and pushing himself against your ass as he traces the outside curves of your breasts. You groan when you can feel how hard he already is. “But I’m certain _that_ will happen after. Because you did say that this is _my day_ , and I’ve got over eleven hours to do _whatever_ I want.”

You sigh. _Shit._ It’s going to be one of _those_ days. “I hope your hand hurts for a week.”

Sam chuckles while stroking his hand over your ass. “Me too.”

_Double shit._

“Count for me, little girl” Sam groans in your ear, pressing your hands against the counter top and nudging your feet apart.”

_SMACK!_

“Jesus Christ!” You shriek, almost falling over the counter top because you didn’t brace yourself. Sam was _supposed_ to be nice. “One,” you grit out through your teeth.

Reaching between your legs, Sam gives you lighter versions of spankings two through eight directly on your bare pussy. You whine at first, but by the time he pulls his hand away, it’s just barely shiny with your slick.

“Eight,” you whimper, letting your head rest down on your crossed arms.

Sam groans when your ass pushes out, and he strokes his hand over the pink print that he left on your skin. “You want me to keep going?”

“Yes, Sam,” you sigh, nodding your head. Your clit hasn’t been touched, but it already aches.

_SMACK!_

“Nine.”

_SMACK!_

“ _Fuh_ \- Ten.”

_Smack. Smack. SMACK!_

“Thirt- ” You gasp, “Thirteen.”

“Good girl,” Sam hums, dragging his fingertips over your warmed skin, absolutely loving the way it looks and feels, not to mention the way _you_ look - wrecked already.

The next ten spankings go up against your pussy while Sam rubs himself against your ass. The spankings are a little harder than the ones before it, but he can tell by the way you’re moving back against him, you’re not minding one bit.

When he takes his hand away, it’s soaked. You whine, and Sam groans, “How many was that?”

“Twenty-three,” you moan out, expecting his hand to go back where it was. When Sam only rubs your ass, you whine, “Please, Sam, don’t stop.”

“No?” Sam questions.

_SMACK! SMACK!_

Twenty-five makes your toes curl into the cheap linoleum below your feet, and it makes Sam’s hand burn. He gives you three more.

“Twenty-eight,” you pant, mindlessly rocking your hips back against Sam.

Groaning at the damp fiction through his pants, Sam strokes your hip. “Five left, little girl. I can tell you like it here.” He reaches around to cup your pussy. “ _But_ if you let me turn your ass red, I’ll lick you until Dean gets back, but you don’t get to come. I want to watch you squirm for the rest of the night.”

You whine miserably into your arms.

“If it’ll help, I won’t come either.”

Surprised, you look back at Sam. “Really?”

He nods his head.  

“Fuck,” you sigh. It’s not exactly a decision. Seeing Sam strung out and just as needy as you are almost never happens. “Do it.”

“Here?” Sam runs his hand over your ass, feeling himself leak even more in his boxer-briefs.

“Yes, Sam,” you answer raggedly.

“Brave little girl,” Sam groans. “Take all five without making a sound, and I’ll throw in a little something extra later on tonight, just for you.”

Biting your bottom lip, you nod your head.

_SMACK!_

You gasp but keep quiet.

 _SMACK SMACK!_  

You squeeze your eyes shut and shift from foot to foot.

“Such a good girl for me.”

_Pat._

You sigh.

_Pat._

You melt into the counter top.

Sam shushes and praises you as he slowly and gently rubs some lotion on your tender skin. When he’s done, he bends down gives your reddened skin a kiss. “You doing all right?”

“Yes, Sam,” you barely breathe and let your body go pliant in Sam’s hand when he carefully turns you around.

You hiss when your ass touches the counter top, but Sam quickly crouches down so that his mouth is between your legs in an instant, gently twisting the sting into pleasure.

Combing your fingers through Sam’s sweaty brown hair makes him groan hungrily against your skin, licking away all of your wetness, humming at your taste. As he palms himself, Sam’s tongue just barely flicks against your clit in that teasing way he’s perfected, and you’re right _there_ , so close to coming.

Because he knows it, Sam quickly grunts out, “Don’t come.”

Your fingers tighten in Sam’s hair, and his hands grab your hips, pushing his mouth harder into your clit, sucking it between his lips.

“Shit! Sam!” You try to twist away on the counter top, but you only end up making yourself wince at the tenderness of your ass. “Sam, I _can’t_.”

“Yes, you can.” After giving you a few seconds to come down from the edge a little bit, Sam uses the tip of his tongue to lightly circle your clit, barely touching your skin. The tips of his fingers mirror the same motions as they brush over your nipples, just making them round and hard.

Sighing, you loosen your fingers in Sam’s hair, and the sounds that come from you are less frantic, more relaxed.

Of course, Sam only lets that happen for a little bit longer. His tongue covers your clit, starts to lick you harder, faster, and like Sam fucking timed it, you hear the door to the motel room open and then close.

“Sammy?” Dean calls out. “______?”

Sam gently licks you once more, pulls his mouth away, and then stands up.

“God _dammit_ ,” you whine as quietly as you can, pushing your thighs together.

There’s a knock on the door. It’s Dean. “Guys?”

“Yeah,” Sam answers, sounding somewhat miserable. Using his hands to pull your thighs apart, he shakes his head at you and mouths, _No_. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

“Kay.” There’s a pause, and neither you nor Sam hear Dean walk away from the door. “You guys wanna go get a beer later?”

Leaning back against the wall, Sam closes his eyes and lets his head thunk back. “Yeah; that’s the plan.”

“Awesome,” Dean says from the other side of the door, then both you and Sam hear his boots on the floor when he walks away.

After taking a breath, you hop down off of the counter, and walk over to Sam. Just barely dragging your fingertips down his chest, purposely touching his nipples through his shirt, your breath catches in your throat when Sam moans and his back arches up from the wall. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re looking like you regret your earlier decision.”

Still with his eyes shut, Sam wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight against him – he’s still solid. “Not _at all_ , but I don’t think we’ll be making it until last call.”

You bury your relieved smile in Sam’s shirt. “No?”

When Sam opens his eyes, he sees your spank-red ass in the mirror, and he lightly traces just above the color, groaning when you shiver. “There’s _no way_ we make it until last call.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a case that happened to land on Sam's birthday turned out to be a bust, you and Sam walked back to the motel to change out of your Fed clothes. 
> 
> Sam's never a been big on the birthday thing, but once you told him that it was his day and that he could do anything he wanted, he decided that giving you _his_ birthday spankings sounded appealing. 
> 
> Once he doled out most of the spankings, he promised that if you took the last handful without a sound, he'd throw in a little something extra for you. 
> 
> That 'little something' is not what you expected, but it's Sam, so you should have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big shout out to ladyataralasse for proofing even though her mind about melted. ;)
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: [HERE](http://spectaculacular-sammy.tumblr.com/)
> 
> If you're like me and need a visual with somethings, this is [the butt plug](http://i1164.photobucket.com/albums/q574/spectaculacularsammy/6338-001_zpsgo5wjawa.jpg)

Just as you start to step into your panties, Sam stops you and digs in his duffle bag. When he pulls out a tube of that Icy/Hot without the hot that you like, you sigh in relief. Your butt only feels hot and a little numb from Sam giving you _his_ birthday spankings, but you know it’s going to be a little sore later on.

When Sam takes you in his arms, you rest against his body and wrap your arms around his neck, laying your cheek on his chest.

“It’s gonna be cold,” Sam murmurs softly, warning you before he puts the icy-feeling gel on your skin.

Humming your answer, you nod your head, then gasp when he rubs a small amount into your tender ass, sighing again after the shock wears off.

After he’s covered your ass in the shiny gel, Sam wipes his hand off on a nearby towel and holds you until the Icy/Hot dries, stroking his fingertips up and down your back. He breathes in time with you, in and out, out and in.

As you start to calm and relax, so does Sam. The front of his Fed slacks start to feel less snug, but a slight ache grows in his cock. Sam knows he’s going to spend the rest of the day and night half-hard in his boxer briefs, but every time he feels that ache, that need for _more_ , he’ll know that you’re feeling it too. Sam will spend the rest of the day wanting to fuck you over every table and every chair, up against every wall, and you’ll know _exactly_ what he’s thinking, because you’ll be wanting it too.

Sam smiles to himself.

You step up on your tiptoes to give Sam a kiss before you pull away from him, but he stays close, helping you pull on your clothes. When he reaches in your bag for a pair of your pants, your heart jumps up in your throat, because folded up in your last pair of clean jeans is Sam’s card and birthday present, and you’re still not sure if you should give it to him yet.

Thankfully, Sam leaves your jeans alone and chooses a soft pair of yoga pants that you sometimes sleep in. He crouches down to hold them open for you, then puts his hand on your waist when you step into them.

Grinning down at him, you say, “I can put my own pants on. It’s not even bad.”

“It’s _my_ day,” Sam retorts with the same grin and pulls your pants up your hips, careful not to let them drag over your ass. “I get to do whatever I want.”

Your only answer is to purse your smiling lips and force yourself not to roll your eyes.

Of course, Sam sees and knows exactly what you’re trying _not_ to do. His lips twitch from trying to hide his smile. “Good girl.”

When your bra is on, Sam helps you into your shirt. “And since it’s _my_ day, I want you to stay in bed and rest for a couple of hours.” You pout, and Sam kisses your pursed lips. “Hand me my bag. I wanna get changed too.”

You do as you’re asked and try not to drool as Sam removes his clothes. You’re fairly successful until takes off his underwear. Sam’s cock is still half-hard, hanging between his legs, _untouched_ , and you have no control over the little whine that comes out of your mouth.

Knowing that _no matter what_ he’s going to be walking around semi-uncomfortable for the remainder of the day, Sam takes his achy cock in his hand and gives himself a couple of loose strokes. He keeps his eyes directly on yours, bites back a groan, and then lets his cock slip out of his hand.

The moment lasts all of about ten seconds, but you’re panting, staring, and aching. Before you know it, Sam’s got his boxer-briefs and jeans up, his belt buckled, and he kisses the side of your face.

You sigh and tease, “You’re mean when you’re old.”

Pretending to scoff, Sam scoops up his bag and clothes - yours too - then ushers you out of the bathroom, whispering in your ear, “I’ll let you have it later, I promise.” He kisses your cheek. “But for now, I want you to get that ass into bed.”

Only dragging your feet a little, you walk over to the bed that you share with Sam – the one furthest from the door, and your side is the one closest to the wall. When you climb under the covers, you gasp softly when your butt touches the mattress, but quickly roll onto your side.

Dean’s sitting at the table in the corner of the room, thumbing through some papers, and he sees you wince. Having no idea that Sam gave you the birthday spankings, and not knowing if something happened while you and Sam were at the sheriff’s station, he mouths to you, _You okay_?

Feeling your cheeks pink, you smile shyly and nod your head, then bury your face into the pillow.

The motel’s bed is surprisingly comfortable, and as soon as you nestle yourself under the covers, you feel yourself start to drift off.

It seems like only seconds have passed when you feel someone rub your shoulder. “Hey, baby,” Sam murmurs softly, “Wake up for me just a little bit and take this ibuprofen.”

Barely moving, you open your mouth, let Sam slide the two brown tablets between your lips, then drink when he tips the bottle of water up to your lips. “Thank you,” you sigh and rub your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Just after three,” Sam answers gently and runs his fingers through your hair. “You want to sleep some more?”

You know that you’ve been asleep for a little over two hours, but you still sleepily nod your head.

“I told you that you needed to rest,” he quietly teases and bends down to kiss your sleepy smile, then points to the table on the other side of the room. “I’ll be right over there.”

Before you let your eyes flutter closed again, you watch Sam walk over to the table and start to go through some papers. You continue to watch him for another couple of minutes, then get up from the bed and pad over to him.

Looking up from the papers on the table, Sam smiles. “I thought you were going to sleep some more?”

You yawn shake your head. “Nuh uh.”

Sam pushes his chair back and holds his arms out, grinning at your adorable and half-awake state. “Come here.”

Careful of your tender ass, you sit in his lap, curling yourself up against him and humming softly when he wraps his arms around you. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing.” Sam rubs one hand up and down your back while using the other one to stroke your thigh and hip. “Just going through some notes.”

“Want some help?”

“Nah, but I do have something you can do for me.” Using just one of his fingers, Sam tips your face up to his and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. “I want you to do everything I say, from now until the end of the night.”

You give his thumb a tiny kiss. “I _always_ do everything you say.”

“Uh huh,” Sam answers sarcastically and lets you repeat the little kisses on the tips of his pointer and middle fingers. “ _Everything_ , little girl. I will spank you every _single_ time that you don’t.”

“Yes, Sam,” you quickly promise. “Everything you say.”

“Say _it_ , right now.”

“Impala.”

“Good girl.” Sam touches your lips with his fingers and then slides them into your mouth. “Suck.”

Softly moaning around Sam’s two fingers, you do what he says and tighten your lips around his knuckles, slightly hollowing your cheeks. Watching your mouth, Sam groans when your tongue slides over the underside of his fingers, and his hand on your hip holds tight as he pushes his rapidly-filling cock up against your ass. The light friction of his jeans and your yoga pants on your spanked-tender skin makes your quiet moan hitch in your throat.

Noticing your reaction, he withdraws his fingers and asks in a gentle voice, “Did that hurt, little girl?”

“No, Sam,” you answer truthfully, “Just… _sensitive_.” Reaching for Sam’s hand, you try to bring his fingers back up to your mouth, but he keeps them just a few inches away from your lips. Looking him directly in the eyes, you softly add, “I like it, Sam.”

His approval comes in the form of a low rumble in his chest. Only tracing your lips with his saliva-slick fingers, Sam says, “I want you to tell me _why_ you like it.”

You have to swallow because your voice is thick in your throat, and your answer still just barely comes out in a whisper, “Get to feel it all day, Sam. Every time I move, I feel it… _you_.”

Taking his fingers away from your lips, Sam kisses you. “I like that answer, little girl.” Nipping at your skin, he brings his kisses down your jaw to just below your ear, then slides his fingers back into your mouth. “You want to hear why _I_ like it? Why I said I _always_ want to spank you?”

“Mmm hmm,” you moan around Sam’s fingers.

With his lips right against your ear, he darkly whispers, “’Cause I know that every single time you move, and you feel how much your ass aches, it reminds you that you’re mine.”

You whimper a needy sound around Sam’s fingers, and he groans, “I _also_ like how you were pretending to be grouchy, complaining that if I spanked you hard and made it so you had to lay on your stomach during the ride back to the bunker, you were going to be pissed.” He nips your ear and drags your lobe through his teeth. “But that’s not quite true, is it?”

Feeling your cheeks blush redder than you’re sure your ass is, you shake your head.

Chuckling darkly, Sam goes back to his stack of papers on the table. “Silly little girl.”

Leaving his fingers in your mouth, Sam uses his other hand to page through his notes. You suck them like you were told, moaning softly when Sam slides them in and out of your mouth, then whining when he takes them away after Dean walks back into the motel room.

For the rest of the afternoon, Sam keeps you in his lap, eventually moving himself, you, and his stack of case notes over to the bed for comfort’s sake. His cock randomly softens and fills from the pressure of your curled-up body, and only after everyone eats supper, does Sam send you off to the bathroom to get changed to go to the bar.

“Wear a skirt,” he whispers in your ear. “No panties.”

You do what he says, and when you come out of the bathroom, Sam tells Dean, “Go on ahead. We’ll be down there in a while.”

Dean chuckles, but takes the hint and closes the door behind himself.

It takes Sam two second to get you turned around and pressed up against the wall. Sliding his hand up the back of your thigh, he asks, “Did you do what I asked?”

With your cheek pressed against the cool wall, you nod your head. “Yes, Sam.”

When Sam’s hand makes its way up your skirt, and he just feels skin, he groans, “Such a good girl for me,” then he takes his hands away from your body. “Stay right here, little girl. _Do not_ _move_. I’ll be right back.”

When he walks away, you get a moment to catch your breath. You can’t see what he’s doing, but you can hear him digging around in one of his duffle bags. He’s back in a just a few seconds.

“I bought you something,” he murmurs deeply as he lifts your skirt up over your ass.

You laugh against the wall and shake your head. “Sam, it’s _your_ birthday.”

“So you keep saying,” he groans playfully. “But I supposed this could be just as much for me as it is for you.” Sam finally shows you what he bought. It’s a stainless steel, tulip-shaped butt plug with a sapphire-colored, plastic stone on the end.

“ _Fuck_ ,” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

Sam swats your ass. “ _Fuck_ , what, little girl?”

“Fuh- Fuck, _Sam_ ,” you correct yourself, panting from the light spanking.

“Not yet.” Sam chuckles and runs his fingertips up and down your slightly-reddened skin. “Remember when I told you that if you took the last five of my birthday spankings without a sound, I’d throw in a little something extra for you?”

A little shocked, you leave the wall and turn so that you can look back at him. “That’s what you meant?”

Sam swats your ass again, a little harder this time. “Someone’s forgetful today.”

You whimper regretfully, unable to stop your hips from rocking back against Sam’s hand. “That’s what you meant, _Sam_?”

“It was.”

You yelp when Sam spanks you again. “What was that for, _Sam_?”

“I told you not to move, little girl.”

After you turn back toward the wall and press your cheek and hands back against the cool surface, you apologize, “I’m sorry, Sam. I’ll stay still.”

“Good girl.” Kissing your shoulders through your shirt, Sam slides a hand up your front to cup one of your breasts, while his other hand holds the butt plug near your face. “Think you can wear _this_ for the rest of the night?”

Panting, you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow a moan as he pushes himself against your ass; his worn jeans feel so rough against your tender and sensitive skin. “Yes, Sam,” you raggedly answer, eager for him to loosen you up enough for the plug to fit. Sam’s been touching you almost all day, but you still feel touch-starved. “Please.” 

“Are you sure, little girl?” Sam asks quietly in your ear. He knows you’re sure; he just wants to hear you beg for it. “Maybe it’s too much….”

“No, no. It’s not too much, Sam,” you breathlessly insist. “Please, let me wear it. I _want_ to wear it.”

“Such a good little girl for me.” Sam turns your body, so that he can kiss you. “On the bed. Ass up.”

After you quickly do as Sam said, you feel him kneel on the bed behind you. He drags his lips and hands all over the hot surface of your ass, groaning over every inch and licking at the little goosebumps that prickle along your skin.

Still dry, Sam runs a finger between your ass cheeks and over your puckered hole. The slight touch has you gasping into the scratchy motel bedding, but when his tongue pushes against the same place a surprised and punched-out moan escapes your lips.

“Gotta be quiet, little girl,” he tells you between light passes of his tongue over your rim. The motel walls are so thin, and while he loves to hear you moan and cry for more, he’s not willing to share that sound with the strangers who are in the next room. For incentive, Sam adds, “If you can be completely quiet until I’m done, I’ll let you come before we leave.”

Keeping absolutely quiet, you nod your head and press your lips together.

Sam chuckles to himself. He knows you inside and out, knows that there is _no way_ you’ll stay quiet, but it’ll be fun to watch you try.

Holding your ass in his hands, Sam spreads you open and holds your tender skin his hands, exposing your hole to him. Using his tongue to lick a flat lines over your tight opening, he slowly coaxes it loose until he can easily slide the tip of his tongue inside. He's surprised when the only sound that he hears from you is your heavy breathing and your fingernails digging into the sheets.

“Very good, little girl,” he hums and then licks his way further inside of you, silently urging you to open up for him.

Only allowing yourself to gasp and twist your hands in the sheets, you don’t make a single sound the entire time that Sam licks you loose. However, when he starts to push his tongue inside of you, a familiar and unexpected heat lights in your middle. It’s surprising how with absolutely no stimulus to your clit, you’re so close to coming, but because you’re supposed to keep quiet, you clench your jaw. However, a second later, Sam takes his mouth away and “No, no, no!” falls out of your mouth.

“Oh, little girl,” Sam sighs regretfully, but there’s a grin on his face. “You were supposed to keep quiet.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. I will. I promise, I will. Please, _please_ , don’t stop,” you beg desperately, feeling your much needed edge slip away.

“I’m not gonna stop, little girl.” Sam drags the tip of his pointer finger over your loosened hole. He’s made is so slick with his tongue and mouth that his finger easily slides right inside of you. “You’ll just have to wait to come until later. If I can do it, so can you.”

Feeling the insides of your legs shake, you whine a needy sound into your arm, then gasp because you almost come when he slides one of his fingers into your ass. “I can’t, Sam. I really, _really_ can’t.”

Sam takes his hands off of you and brings one to the bulge in his jeans to palm it. “Could you come just from me opening you up?”

“Yes, Sam,” you sob. “I’m sorry.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Sam groans, grabbing himself a little harder, loving how your body has always been so responsive to him. After a heavy breath, Sam takes his hand away from his aching cock and strokes your hips, thinking… _planning_.  “Shhh. Just breathe, little girl.”

On one hand, Sam loves it when you’re wrecked, but he’s positive that in the state you’re in, you couldn’t even stand, let alone go to the bar like you wanted. He lets you breathe a little bit longer and thinks a little bit more.

After a few minutes pass, Sam’s got a plan.

“I want you to be good girl and hold it until I get the plug in. If you come, I _will_ make it so you have to lay on your stomach the whole ride back to the bunker, and I promise you won’t like it.”

Clenching your fists tighter in the sheets, you whine miserably, “Yes, Sam.”

“ _But_ ,” he continues, “If you’re good, I’ll let you come before we go. Can you do that for me, little girl?”

The few minutes that Sam didn’t touch you have allowed you to come down and have let that fierce need to come start to fade away. You clumsily nod. “Yes, Sam. I’ll be good.”

“Good girl.”

Very slowly, Sam goes back to opening you up, sliding that one slick finger in and out of your ass and, eventually, adding a second. When you moan, he reminds you to be quiet and gently works in a third finger.

Once you’re loosened enough to take the plug, Sam pulls a packet of lube out of his pocket and coats the plug with it. He’s slow and careful as he works it into your ass, little by little, until the shiny, blue plastic stone nestled in steel rests flush against your skin.

Admiring the blue stone between your ass cheeks, Sam runs his hands over your skin and brushes his thumbs over the base of the plug. When he notices a line of your slick leaking from your pussy, he groans, “You like this, don’t you, little girl?”

“Yes, Sam,” you breathe softly, feeling your core throb with need.

“I like it too.” Sam gently tugs on the plug, just until the thick part of the stainless steel stretches your rim. “It’s going to be stretching your ass all night, while your pussy stays empty, just waiting for my cock to fill it up.” He sees you gasp into the sheets and notices that the insides of your thighs are shaking. “Are you going to come?”

“No, Sam,” you choke out, fisting the sheets tighter in your hands.

“How come?” He continues to push and pull the plug in and out of your ass, watching the line of wetness dripping from your pussy get closer and closer to the bedding. “I thought you said that you were close?”

“You didn’t- Oh, _Jesus_ , Sam!” Your back arches when he starts to wiggle the plug inside of you. “You didn’t say.”

“Very good, little girl.” Sam pushes the plug back into your ass. “ _So_ good for me.”

Taking his hands away from you, Sam shifts on the bed, so that he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress and pushes his jeans down to his ankles. When he’s done, he helps you move your strung-out body into his lap and positions you, so that you’re kneeling around one of his bare thighs.

Moving his foot up onto his tiptoes, Sam pushes his thigh against your dripping pussy. “That’s all you get, little girl. Rub your needy pussy on me, and make yourself come. You get two minutes.”

Sighing in relief, because you know that’s plenty of time, you wrap your arms around Sam’s neck and start to move. You’re so slick that you glide over his strong thigh, and it literally takes you a second to find the perfect angle.

Sam holds your waist, your skirt bunched up under his hands, and he groans when he feels how soaked you are. “C’mon, little girl. Make yourself come on me.”

Moaning through every little touch against your aching clit, you ride Sam’s thigh, feeling yourself clench around the plug buried tightly in your ass. Your pussy is so empty that it aches.

“Ninety seconds left, little girl. Need some help?”

You have no idea what Sam means, but you still nod your head and beg, “Please, Sam.”

 _SMACK!_ Sam spanks your ass.

It fucking stings, but because you’re craving _anything_ , you moan at the contact instead of yelp at the sting.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sam huskily breathes when he realizes how much you like it. “You want more?”

“Please, Sam,” you beg some more, finally feeling that heat in your center light up hotter than your burning ass. “Please.”

Loving how you beg for him, Sam spanks you every time that you move. “Sixty seconds, little girl. You better come for me, or I’ll make you stop.”

“Sam,” you desperately whine his name.

_SMACK!_

“C’mon, little girl. I know you can do it.”

“Please, Sam.” You need more.

_SMACK!!_

_There it is._ “Fuck! Sam, please! I’m gonna come!”

_SMACK!_

“Thirty seconds.” Sam’s cock aches, and he fucking loves it.

“Please, don’t stop, Sam. I need it!”

_SMACK!_

Sam watches your back arch, wincing and moaning from the sting on your ass. Your mouth is hanging open and pretty noises keep falling from your red and swollen lips. He could let you do this all day, but he won’t. “Fuck, you look so god damn beautiful like this, little girl.” He spanks you again.

You’re there. Everything is so hot and wet and aching in all the right ways, but because it’s habit, ingrained in your mind that you need permission, you beg, “Can I come, Sam? Please, Sam, I _need_ to come.”

Knowing that you’re going to make all kinds of sounds that Sam’s not willing to share with anyone else today, Sam quickly brings his hands up to your head, holds one over your mouth while he threads the other one through your hair. “Yes, little girl. Come all over me.”

As your orgasm plows through you, you scream into Sam’s hand and feel yourself gush on his thigh. Your ass clenches tight around the plug, your pussy around absolutely nothing, and you sob, “Thank you, Sam. Thank you. _Thank you_ ,” into the palm of his hand while you work yourself through massive aftershocks.

Sam holds you when you collapse in his arms, loving how you make more of those pretty sounds right in his ear. He returns them with comforting touches and soft praise, “You did _so_ good, little girl.”

Once your breathing has gone back to normal, Sam lifts you up off of his lap and has you kneel on the floor between his legs. He gathers your hair in his fist with one hand and traces the solid line of his cock in his boxer briefs with the other. “I want you do to _one more_ thing for me, little girl.”

Thinking that Sam wants you to blow him, your mouth waters. “Anything, Sam.”

Still running his fingertips up and down the outline of his cock, Sam nods down to the wet spot that you left on his thigh. “Lick it up, little girl, and then we’ll go to the bar, just like you wanted.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sam's birthday, and even though he typically doesn't want to do anything, you wanted to do something special.  
> Sam just wanted to give you _his_ birthday spankings and have you wear a butt plug to the bar.  
>  Your answer?  
> "Yes, Sam."  
> But because this is _Not Unless Sam Says_ , naturally, things escalate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you goes out to [lady_ataralasse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ataralasse/pseuds/lady_ataralasse) for proofing this for me. She's totally fab, and you should check out her latest series [All You Had to Do Was Ask](http://archiveofourown.org/series/434119).
> 
> Also, there will be one more MUCH MUCH smaller chapter in this part, and then we'll go back to our "regularly scheduled smutting."  
> (the next chapter isn't done yet. Just watch, it'll be another 10k word chapter. -shrugs- I can't help it.)
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: [HERE](http://spectaculacular-sammy.tumblr.com/)
> 
> If you're like me and need a visual with some things, this is [the butt plug](http://i1164.photobucket.com/albums/q574/spectaculacularsammy/6338-001_zpsgo5wjawa.jpg)

The bar is just a few short blocks from the motel room, and after you and Sam wash up, the two of you make the walk. Sam keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him the entire way.

As you walk, a light breeze blows open the small slit in the back of your pencil skirt. It comes down to your knees, covering everything that needs to be covered, but it’s not about your skirt, it’s about what’s _under_ your skirt.

With every step you take, you’re reminded that there’s a shiny, silver-colored butt plug firmly nestled in your ass. It’s fairly small, but because of its shape, it’s not going anywhere unless Sam says it is. Also, because it’s solid stainless steel, it’s got some weight to it. There’s just enough pressure on your inner muscles to make you ache and not let you forget that the plug is there.

That ache makes you warm, makes you want, but it also makes you remember that you’re not wearing any panties.

Sure, not wearing panties really isn’t a big deal. There are lots of times that you pull on just a tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants in the middle of the night to sleepily stumble down the bunker’s hallway to the bathroom. Or when you’re on a hunt that lasts just a little bit too long and there’s no time to stop at the local laundromat, you might have to spend a day or two el fresco. It’s not a big deal. Everyone does it, but when you’re not wearing any panties because _Sam specifically told you not to_ , it’s different.

It’s that naughty feeling. That feeling of being naked for Sam in front of whatever people happen to be around, and they don’t even know it; just you and Sam do.

Secretly being exposed _just for Sam_ makes your heart beat just a little bit faster, makes you ache with need, and dampen with anticipation. It makes you think about how it would be _so easy_ for him to lead you into a dark corner of any room he wants, pull down his zipper, and push your skirt up just high enough for him to slide right into you. Sam would keep his hand over your mouth, so he could fuck you as hard as he wanted without anyone else hearing your clandestine activities. Soundless grunts would fall from his mouth – hand-muffled moans from yours – as the two of you came. Then, Sam would tuck himself back into his pants, pull your skirt back down, and go back to whatever it was that the two of you were doing. And no one else would be the wiser.

“What are you thinking about?” Sam asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Your flushed cheeks answer his question better than any words ever could.

Sam chuckles and leads you the rest of the way to the bar.

Just a few minutes later, you and he walk up to the ancient-looking bar, but before he leads you inside the doors, he steers you over to the side of the building.

After finding a place that is completely hidden from the parking lot and the highway, Sam leans you back against the bar’s wooden siding.

“Remember, little girl,” he murmurs against your lips, barely touching them. “You do _everything_ I say until the end of the night.”

“Yes, Sam,” you answer quickly, your promise hitching in your throat when Sam’s hand drags up your thigh and lightly grazes over your sensitive ass.

Watching you and how your body responds to his touches, Sam hungrily licks his bottom lip. “That feels good, doesn’t it, little girl?”

“Mmm hmm,” you hum, trying to arch your body closer to Sam, but when his fingers still on your ass, you quickly add, “Yes, Sam. It feels _so_ good.”

Chuckling, he goes back to lightly stroking your skin, this time using the blunt edges of his fingernails. “Thought I was going to get to spank you again, little girl.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, _Sam_ ,” you sass with a breathless grin on your face.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll get to spank you again before the night is over.” He matches your grin and reaches down to kiss you, but stops just before his lips touch yours. Cupping your ass with both of his hands, Sam pulls your body flush to his. Both of you groan, and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. “No, little girl. Arms down.”

You whine, but do as you’re told, looking up at Sam for answers.

Sam scans his eyes around the vacant space next to the bar. When he sees that it’s just as private as it was before, he whispers against your lips, “Turn around.”

Your heart races with anticipation as you do what you’re told, and you feel feverish when Sam drags his hands along your body as he crouches down behind you. His hands slowly ease your skirt up over your hips, baring your naked ass.

The light breeze is cool on your spank-warm skin, but Sam’s breath is hot, making you shiver as goosebumps rise on your skin. “ _Saaam_.”

“Shhh,” he soothes and gives one of your ass cheeks a kiss. “I just wanted to make sure-”

“Oh!” you gasp when Sam gently tugs on the base off the butt plug and practically melt into the side of the building.

“I just wanted to make sure it isn’t uncomfortable.” He drags his bottom lip through his teeth and groans when he sees how wet you already are. “But I can tell that it’s not, is it, little girl?”

“No, Sam,” you breathe and let him turn you back around.

Still holding your ass in his hands and crouching down in front of you, Sam looks up at you with soft eyes. “If it gets uncomfortable, just let me know, and I’ll add some more lube. Or if you want me to, I’ll take it out. You don’t _have_ to keep it in, little girl.”

“What if I _want_ to keep it in, Sam?” you wonder, feeling your cheeks turn pink again.

Sam kisses up the front of your bare thigh and nudges your feet apart. “Then, we’ll keep it in.” Taking your leg in his hand, he eases it over his shoulder and puts his lips on your naked pussy. “Don’t come, little girl.”

“Yes, Sam,” you murmur softly and rest your head back on the exterior wall of the bar.

A first, he just mouths around your pussy, licking away the wetness with soft and slow sweeps of his tongue. Sam sighs when your fingers tangle in his hair, and he hums against your skin as he his tongue between your folds.

Your body instinctively clenches the second that Sam’s tongue touches your clit, and you moan loudly.

“Shhh,” he murmurs from between your legs. “Be a good girl for me.”

Nodding your head, you whisper that you will, then silently gasp when he uses your ass to pull you tighter against his mouth.

“Good girl,” Sam praises.

Looking up at you, he watches how your head lolls back against the wall as you alternate between licking and biting your lips. Copying you, he licks broad and flat lines over your clit until your thighs start to shake with need. Giving you a much needed break, he goes back to gently mouthing at your folds and sucking your sensitive skin into his mouth, still watching you pant noiseless sounds.

The second time that Sam pushes his tongue between your soaked lower lips, he teases your clit with the very tip of his tongue; just delicate and light flicks of your swollen and sensitive skin. Watching your face, your body, how you’re so close to coming, but being _so_ _fucking_ _good_ for him, Sam repeats the same motions with his tongue multiple times until he feels you start to tremble again.

“Such a good girl for me,” Sam tells you over and over again between precise sweeps of his tongue as he licks you clean. He’s gentle and slow, not teasing with the motions; just licking away all your wetness and swallowing it down. When he’s done, Sam eases your leg down from his shoulder, and pulls your skirt down your thighs.

Gasping for breath, you watch Sam stand up and wipe his mouth clean on the cuff of his jacket. The hem of his plaid shirt just barely covers the pucker in the front of his jeans, and when you watch him readjust himself, your mouth waters. “Sam, please,” you beg. “ _Please_ , let me blow you.”

Moving in, so that he’s pressed tight against you, Sam tilts your face up and kisses you. “Do you realize that you stayed quiet for me the _entire time_ my mouth was on your pussy, and the minute I stopped, you didn’t beg me to let come?” Sam kisses you again and lets you lick your own taste out of his mouth. “Tell me what you _did_ beg me for, little girl.”

“Your cock, Sam.” You’re practically drooling for it. “Want to blow you _so_ bad.”

Sam captures your wrists when he feels your fingertips sliding up the fronts of his thighs and gives you a dark grin. “Someday, we might have to discuss how many days I can keep you needy and on edge. You know I love it when you beg for my cock.”

The thought of Sam teasing and denying you for days shouldn’t make you wet, but it does.

“We could find a different plug, one that you could wear all day.” Sam swaps his hold on your wrists from two hands to one and brings his free hand down to cup your ass. “We’ve talked about me spanking your ass every night. I could keep it this _exact_ shade of red….” Before you can find your voice to respond, he gently pats your ass. “Just something for you think about while we’re having a couple of beers. I did say I wanted to watch you squirm tonight.”

A needy sound escapes your mouth, and you collapse against Sam. He holds you in his arms, affectionately rubbing his hands up and down your back while kissing the top of your head. Sam breathes in your scent as you inhale his, both of you trying to come down enough to walk into the bar for a much needed, ice-cold beer.

“Just breathe, baby,” he murmurs softly when he hears you softly whine again. “Let’s just try to stay for an hour. Okay? If it’s too much, all you have to do is tell me. We’ll go back to the motel or get our own room if we have to, I promise. You’ve been so good for me today.”

You sigh in relief, because you can totally do an hour. “Yes, Sam.”

After both you and Sam catch your breaths, he fixes a spot where your make-up smudged, and you fix his crooked collar and smooth down a stray lock of his hair.

“Ready?” he asks, holding out his arm for you.

You take a deep breath, nod your head, and let Sam lead you into the bar.

Just inside the door, there are a few patrons sitting up at the bar. Dean’s there too, leaning against it with a smirk on his face as he orders his beer from a busty brunette. When he sees you and Sam walk in the door, he changes his order from one beer to three.

Catching his brother’s eyes, Sam nods over toward a high-top table near the dart boards and pool tables. Understanding, Dean nods his head.

Both Sam and you shrug off your jackets as you walk over toward the table. When he’s done, he bends down and whispers in your ear, “You doing all right?”

After you nod your head, Sam kisses your cheek and pulls out a stool for you before he sits down on his own.

Careful of both your tender ass and the plug, you sit down slowly and gently, but as soon as your ass touches the ripped and flat cushion of the bar stool, you stand right back up, wincing quietly through your teeth. Your ass isn’t _too sore_ , but your skin is just too tender for jagged vinyl.

You’re thankful when Dean comes up to the table with three beers. You take one from him when he hands it to you and take a long pull.

Sam gives you a look, wondering if you really are all right, and your answer is, “Pool tables are free.” You tip your beer toward the unclaimed tables, wanting – _needing_ – a distraction from the constant ache under your skirt and Sam’s denial-filled promises. “Loser buys the next round.”

Dean snorts. “You might as well just go buy me a beer right now, ‘cause there’s no way you’re gonna win.”

Sam chuckles and pulls a handful of change out of his pocket. He’s the one that taught you just about everything you know about playing – and winning at – pool. It’s anyone’s game, but after picking out the quarters, he hands them to you, smiling confidently. “Go win me a beer.”

“Done.” You grin back and take the quarters. On your way over to the pool table you hand them to Dean. “Rack ‘em up, Winchester.”

Sure that he’s going to get his next round for free, Dean takes a long swallow of his beer. Once he’s got the balls racked up, he looks up at you with a competitive smirk. “Ready when you are.”

With your pool stick in your hand, you lean over the table and get ready to break. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sam watching every single move that you make. When you look up to meet his gaze, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip before taking a sinful-looking drink of his beer.

Watching Sam’s lips wrap around the glass mouth of his beer bottle and seeing how his throat moves when he swallows, makes your whole body tingle with want. He watches you watch him – knowing _exactly_ what he’s doing to you – and just as he sets his beer bottle back on the table, his other hand disappears under the table and into his lap.

“You gonna break, or just eye fuck Sam all night?” Dean interrupts, his tone playfully sarcastic.

Sam actually laughs, while you roll your eyes and shake your head, laughing too. “Shut up.” You bring your eyes back down to the table and take a deep breath. “I’m concentrating.”

Dean snickers. “Yeah; I _saw_ that.”

Ignoring Dean, you pull your stick back and shoot, scattering the balls across the table. When two smoothly fall into the corner and side pockets, you can’t help but smile proudly at Dean. “Guess that makes me solids.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles under his breath, but you know it’s all for show.

Leaning on his pool cue, Dean watches you line up your next shot, calling you ‘lucky’ when the ball just barely tips into the pocket. You shake your head and laugh at him, sink another ball with a flawless bank shot, but scratch on the next one.

As you walk around the table, Dean grabs your arm and whispers in your ear, “When you go get my beer, make sure they get it from the bottom of the cooler. I prefer my free beer _extra_ cold.”

Rolling your eyes, you smack him on the ass with your pool cue and walk back toward the table to get your beer. As you take a drink, Sam wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek. “I like to watch you _play_.”

“I’m aware,” you answer, biting your lip to keep from smiling at Sam’s obvious innuendo. “Though,” you add. “I prefer when _you_ _play_ _with_ _me_.”

Slowly dragging the tips of his fingers up your spine, he huskily murmurs in your ear, “That can be arranged. Remember what we talked about? I could _play_ with you _for days_.”

You swallow the hitching noise that your throat makes, and Sam chuckles to himself, still dragging his fingertips up and down your back. After he watches Dean miss his shot, Sam pats your ass. “You’re up. Why don’t you put the four in the corner pocket for me?”

Looking up at the table, you see that it’s a straight shot to sink the four ball. It also happens that to sink it, you’ll have to bend over the side of the table that is closest to Sam, which will give him a prime view of your ass.

Raking your fingers through the back of Sam’s hair and pausing to lightly scratch his scalp, you answer very softly, “Yes, Sam,” smiling when you hear him groan.

“C’mon!” Dean holds up the half-empty bottle in his hand. “My beer’s not gettin’ any fuller.”

Not because you should – you _really_ shouldn’t – but just because you can, as you take your hand away from Sam’s hair, you give the little hairs at the nape of his neck a nice tug. When you walk away from his side, you hear a low groan from Sam and then feel him swat your ass.

Dean chuckles, you unsuccessfully swallow a yelp, and Sam takes a drink of his beer, giving you a look that plainly says, _Told you I’d get to spank you again tonight._

It doesn’t work, but you bite your lip to keep from smiling and walk back to the pool table. You can still feel the sting on your ass along with Sam’s eyes on you. However, when you lean over to sink the four ball like he asked you to, you actually _feel_ his hand on you.

“Like this.” Sam bends himself over you with his groin tight against your ass. His left hand reaches up to yours and angles your shot just a little to the right, while his other hand comes down and wraps around yours, making you hold the base of the stick firmer. “Hold that stick real tight in your hand, baby,” Sam whispers in your ear. “You’re not gonna hurt it.”

“Dude!” Dean calls from the other side of the pool table. “Cheating!”

Rolling his eyes, Sam takes his hands away from yours and stands up behind you, but doesn’t move away. Towering over you, he watches you draw the cue back. “Nice and easy, baby.”

Before you take the shot, you shift your hips, so that your ass rubs against Sam. He groans softly and puts a hand on your waist to keep you still, but stays quiet until after you sink the ball. When you stand up and move to take your next shot, he grabs your hips and holds you close, murmuring, “Keep wiggling that ass at me, and I’m going to have to spank it.”

You only look up at him with the most innocent face that you can muster, then lean back down over the table. Sam rubs your ass before walking back to his beer.

A few minutes later, the only balls left on the table are the cue and the eight ball, and it’s your shot. You call your pocket.

“Bank shot on the eight?” Dean whistles and shakes his head. “ _Someone’s_ ballsy tonight.”

“Hey!” you protest, pointing your pool cue at Dean for effect. “I made _two_ flawless bank shots earlier, and if I remember correctly, you scratched on the one you tried.”

“Whatever. Take your shot.” Laughing, Dean holds his pool stick like a baseball bat and takes a swing at your ass.

There’s not time to move out of the way, but your body instinctively braces itself for the impact. However, when it never comes, you look back, and Sam’s got his hand wrapped around Dean’s pool cue. You have no idea how Sam got to your side so quickly, but you sigh in relief and let your body unclench.

Sam and Dean both share a look that doesn’t end until Dean lets his cue slide through his fist and the rubber end bounces on the floor. You watch the two of them for a second, then Sam walks back to his bar stool, his fingers grazing yours on the way.

An awkward few seconds pass.

“Well,” you start, giving Dean an _It’s fine_ , look, “I could go for a shot.”

After breathing out a sigh of relief, Dean tosses you a competitive grin. “When you buy me my beer, you can get us a round of shots too.”

You chalk up your stick. “You’re pretty cocky for someone who’s about to lose.”

“Never gonna happen, sweetheart.”

Leaning over the side of the pool table, you line up your bank shot. Sam shifts on his bar stool to get your attention, and when you look up at him, he just barely nods his head to the left, hinting for you to do the same with your cue. You do what he says and raise an eyebrow, asking if you’re positioned right. Sam nods his head just once.

“I saw that,” Dean mutters under his breath.

Ignoring him, you pull your stick back, take the shot, and the eight ball sinks perfectly in its destined pocket, the cue ball rolling back and stopping in the center of the table. You don’t even try to hide the proud grin on your face. “Jäger, please.”

After a heavy sigh, Dean groans, “I’ll be right back.”

Once Dean walks off in the direction of the bar, Sam comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling the back of your head. “ _God_ , I wanna fuck you right now.”

Leaning back into Sam, you look up at him. “Out back seemed pretty private….”

“Tempting, but no,” Sam says, but then moves his mouth to your ear, whispering hoarsely, “What I’m going to do to you requires a bed.”

When Sam’s lips just skim the outer shell of your ear and down your jaw, the needy ache in your center that you’ve been distracting yourself from for the better part of an hour comes back full force. Sam hears the tiny moan that slips from your lips, kisses it away, and leads you back to the table.

He saw that you didn’t sit down on the bar stool when everyone first walked up to the table, so Sam moves it out of the way. After he sits down on his stool, he gently steers you, so that you’re standing between his thighs, and by the time you’ve carefully perched yourself on his knee, Dean comes back to the table with three beers.

“Be right back,” he announces after setting the beers down and makes his way back to the bar.

Sam gives you a confused look, and you clarify, “We added shots to the deal.”

Only smirking and shaking his head, Sam takes a sip of his beer. A second later, Dean comes back with three shots of Jäger in each of his hands.  

“Someone’s ambitious,” you note, helping him get the glasses out of his hands.      

“Buy two, get one free,” Dean answers, obviously very pleased with himself.

Still holding you close to him, Sam takes one of the shots and silently offers it to you. When you nod your head, he brings it up to your lips and carefully pours it into your mouth.

The boozy, black licorice taste is strong on your tongue, but goes smoothly down your throat, quickly making your belly warm. After Sam takes the empty shot glass away, he and Dean reach for their first shots, clink glasses, and tip them back.

As the moments tick away, the amount of beer left in the bottles starts to get lower and lower, and Sam’s hand starts to get higher and higher on your thigh. Just as you turn to him and open your mouth to ask if it’s time to leave, he nudges your second shot closer to you and asks, “Wanna go after we finish these?”

You turn Sam’s wrist over to check his watch. It’s two hours until bar closing, and, before, Sam said there was no way you and he made it until last call. Grinning, you tease, “You don’t want to stay until last call?”

Under the table, Sam’s hand slides up your thigh even further until he’s just barely tracing your damp slit. “We can if you want.”

“No, no,” you quickly insist and toss back your shot while trying not to melt in Sam’s lap. “I’m ready.”

Dean chuckles around a drink of his beer and shakes his head at you and Sam.

It takes Sam about five seconds to down his last shot, grab both his jacket and yours, and lead you out of the bar.

-

After a quick walk back to the motel room, Sam’s got you pinned against the outside of the door, kissing you breathless when his phone vibrates in his pocket. “Get it,” he tells you, bringing his kisses down your neck.

Because his jeans are strained by his solid cock, it’s difficult to get your hand in his pocket. When you do, Sam groans against your skin, and you quickly look at the text message on the screen. “It’s Dean. Just wants to make sure that it’s safe for him to come back after last call.”

“Two hours?” You can feel Sam smirk against your skin. “ _Might_ be enough time,” he answers and goes back to kissing your neck. Just when you start to clumsily type out the text reply, he adds, “Unless you _want_ him to come back before we’re done.” Under his lips, Sam feels you swallow and take a deep breath, and he chuckles darkly, “Little girl, do you _want_ Dean to come back to the room?”

“No, Sam,” you whisper honestly.

A little shocked, Sam lifts his head up and looks at you. “No?”

You quickly finish answering Dean’s text, put Sam’s phone back in his pocket, and then reach up to hold his face in your hands. “Sam, it’s _your_ day.” You look directly into his eyes, stroking his jaw with your fingertips. “Just _your_ day.”

There’s a moment where Sam gives you this look. It goes from total love and adoration to complete hunger and need, and then you have no idea if Sam unlocks the door or breaks the lock. All that you _do know_ is that one second you’re leaning back against the door and in the next, the door is slamming shut behind you and Sam, and he’s yanking off your clothes.

Sam pulls your shirt up over your head, and when your bra is tugged away from your arms, you hear elastic tearing. The zipper on your pencil skirt doesn’t stand a chance when he wrenches it down your hips, but you’re too focused on working open Sam’s belt and jeans to notice.

After the last piece of clothing is on the floor and shoes and boots are kicked to the side, Sam finds your mouth again, lifting you up by your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist. Holding on to you with one strong arm, he uses his knees and free hand to crawl up the bed, back muscles straining beautifully in the light of the motel room. His mouth doesn’t leave yours, and he ferociously swallows down every sound and plea you make for him until he’s got you back on the pillows.

As feral as Sam seemed while he was ripping off your clothes, once he’s got you on the bed, his hands are so gentle. His fingertips brush over your mouth, chin, neck, and shoulders, lightly skimming over your skin, and touching you so softly it almost aches.

You’re trembling with anticipation under Sam, and he’s shaking, working so hard to control himself. Panting, _wanting,_ you watch Sam’s fingers twitch as they map out the curves of your body. He looks so focused, like the key to all the secrets of the universe is right in your skin, and all he has to do is touch it and it’ll all be his.

Whatever it is, it’s _already_ his. “Sam,” you whisper, your voice ragged with want. “ _Please_.”

Taking his eyes away from the curves in his hands, Sam looks up at you. Just like you’re sure yours are, Sam’s pupils are blown, wide and dark, filled with need and desire. You look into his eyes, and he looks into yours, watching, wanting, _waiting_.

Looking back down at you, Sam remaps your body with the tips of his fingers, but as he works his way back up, his mouth follows. He kisses everywhere that he can reach, leaving behind a dizzying amount of want and ache, along with hot and shiny trails from his tongue that show on your skin like highways on a road map.

When Sam finds your mouth again, he keeps his body tight to yours, and then he moves. He moves his hips along yours, rubbing his painfully hard cock against your soaked pussy as you rock up against him.

Usually, Sam is composed, in control of himself, has a plan, and sticks to it, but his orgasm has been _right there_ all day. He’s been solid in his jeans for the better part of the last ten hours, and as much as he’s loved every second of it, he just _can’t_ anymore.

After untangling your legs from his body and pushing himself up off of you, Sam grits out, “Knees, little girl.”

With one hand strangling his aching cock, Sam uses his other hand to help steady you as you do as you’re told, and when your ass is in the air, he has to squeeze his cock even tighter.

The sapphire-colored stone at the end of your butt plug peaks out from between your ass cheeks, and the hand not choking his cock reaches out to touch it. “Jesus, little girl. Your pussy’s got this thing soaked. Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? All wet and ready.”

“Yes, Sa- ” You gasp when he slowly starts to ease the plug out of your ass, twisting the steel inside of you as he gently pulls it out then pushes it back in to place.

Still holding his cock tight in his fist, Sam squeezes it with his hand and tells you, “Reach back, little girl. Hold yourself open for me while I take this out.”

Turning your head to the side, so that you can look back at him, you bring your hands back and gently part your tender ass cheeks for Sam.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he sighs at the sight of you. “Yeah, little girl, just like that.” Sam starts gently working the plug out of you, and when he sees you tense, he softly murmurs, “Just breathe for me.”

As deep and slow as possible, you try to breathe, sighing when Sam tells you how good you’re doing for him. You look back at him and watch the flushed-face look of concentration that he has. His cock is leaking down his knuckles and wrist as he clutches it in his hand, and you lick your lips, wishing it was leaking down your throat.

“Saaam,” you gasp suddenly, arching your back when you feel the thickest part of the tulip-shaped steel stretch your rim. “Oh, _God_ , Sam…I need- ”

“I know, little girl. And I’ll give it to you.” Sam clenches the base of his cock tighter in his fist. “ _Fuck_ , I swear I’ll give it to you.”

A second later, he pulls the remaining inches of the plug out of you and slides the base between your fingers, making you hold on to it.

Still holding your ass cheeks wide for Sam, you moan and beg, feeling _so_ empty after being full almost the whole day. Not expecting it, your body jerks on the bed when Sam’s thumb traces your rim, and you beg some more.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam groans out as he circles your gaping hole. Seeing you stretched so open from wearing the butt plug all day makes a filthy idea flicker in his mind, and he almost comes in his hand.

After taking the plug out from between your fingers, Sam hold it up and shows it to you. “You wanna wear this for just a little bit longer?”

Gasping for breath, need, arousal, and want take you over. “Please, Sam. Wanna wear it while you fuck me.”

Sam’s cock blurts out more pre-come down his fist. “Oh, fuck,” he gasps – hearing you say it is _always_ better than just thinking it himself. “Me too, little girl.”

Very slowly, Sam loosens his fist on his leaking cock and reaches up toward your face. When the palm of his hand is in front of your mouth, he tells you, “Get it wet.”

Instantly, your mouth waters, and you obediently lick the palm of Sam’s hand all the way up to the tips of his fingers, moaning when your tongue finds tangy drips of pre-come. When you try to lick again to find more, Sam takes his hand back, wraps around his shaft, and tips the head his cock downward, so that his slit is just centimeters away from your stretched rim.

“Holy fuck, Sam,” you choke out when you see him slowly start to stroke his cock. As you watch him, you realize he’s going to jerk himself off until he comes in your ass.

Seeing the look on your face, Sam knows what you’re thinking. “That’s right, little girl. You want it don’t you?”

Trying to keep your lower half still, you twist your upper body around, wanting to see Sam better. “Yes, Sam. Please, come in my ass.”

“I will, little girl,” Sam grits out, still fisting his dick at an agonizingly slow pace. “And once I do, gonna put this plug back in you and _keep_ my come in your ass.”

Sam’s words make your brain short-circuit for a second, and your hands reach to grab onto the sheets.

_SMACK!_

You yelp when Sam’s hand comes down on your ass.

“I _told you_ to keep your hands on your ass, little girl,” Sam reminds you, his voice so rough.

Quickly, you reach back and do what you’re supposed to, promising, “I will, Sam. I’m sorry.”

“There’s _my_ good girl,” he tells you, his rough voice gone.

Taking his weeping cock back in his hand, Sam starts to stroke himself at a tortuous speed, keeping the dripping tip just hovering over your gaping hole. You can feel the warm drips of his pre-come on your already hot skin, ticking your sensitive rim, teasing you, and you whine.

“You want it, don’t you, little girl?” Sam rasps out, not expecting an answer, because he already knows that you do. “So good for me,” he groans and speeds up his hand on his cock.

The slit is leaking almost constantly, drooling all over your rim, and he uses the plug to push the thick line of pre-come into your ass. Watching you stretch around the plug all over again makes that warmth light in Sam’s middle, and he knows there’s no amount of squeezing the base of his cock that’ll stop him from coming.

“Oh, fuck, little girl. Gonna come,” he chokes out, watching his cock continue to leak into your gaping ass.

“Please, Sam,” you beg, wishing you could see.

Keeping the tip of his cock just above your stretched hole, Sam pumps his pre-come-soaked cock faster, feeling his orgasm hurl closer and closer. Having carried around his half-hard cock in his jeans for the majority of the day, Sam’s been feeling this ache in his cock, and just before he comes, that ache intensifies almost painfully. But then he’s coming, shouting your name even though he can’t breathe.

Just like he wanted, come shoots out of his cock and splatters against your rim, dribbling down into you. Still stroking himself, milking out the load he’s been saving all day, his body twitches as more creamy, white ropes land on your skin.

You can feel every single hot and thick stream of Sam’s come on your skin, can feel it trickle warm inside of you, and you moan right along with Sam. Through your combined sounds, you can hear his hand pumping up and down his cock, working himself through aftershock after aftershock, and when you least expect it, he slowly eases the butt plug back inside you.

After giving himself a minute to catch his breath and make his mouth work, Sam tells you, “There, little girl,” and gently takes your hands away from your ass. You collapse on the bed, ass full of Sam’s hot come and the stainless steel butt plug.

You moan when his mouth brushes against your ass, the skin hot and more sensitive than when Sam spanked your ass in the bathroom earlier in the day. Hisses and gasps fall from your lips when he starts using his tongue, licking over your flushed skin.

“On your back, little girl. Pillows behind your head.” Sam breathes and watches you do what he says.

His half-hard cock hangs down in front of him even needier than it was before, and Sam reaches down to stroke it again when you carefully spread yourself out for him on the bed. His thighs and abs twitch every time his hand twists are the head of his cock, but he keeps his hand moving.

Still kneeling on the bed, but sitting back on his heels, Sam tells you, “Now you’re gonna have to get me hard again. Rub your clit nice and slow for me. Wanna watch you.”

You eagerly bring your hand down to your pussy and slide it through your soaked folds, moaning when you brush your fingers over your swollen clit.

“Quiet, little girl,” Sam warns. “No one else gets to hear your pretty sounds tonight, just me.”

Keeping quiet, you nod your head. You use your fingertips to gather some slick from your drenched opening and bring it up to you clit, then slowly circle it. When Sam groans in approval, you spread your legs even wider for him, showing him everything and gasping when you put pressure on the plug slickly nestled in your ass.

“Go a little faster, little girl,” Sam tells you, still stroking his cock at a leisurely pace.

Once he came, his cock never fully deflated, however, watching you touch yourself makes Sam’s dick start to fill again. It always does.

“Sam, _please_. I can’t,” you whine softly when you’ve been sitting on the edge for what feels like forever. Sam’s been quiet for more than a few minutes, and being stretch open with the butt plug intensifies everything. You _need_ to come.

“Shhh,” he only answers, then reminds you, “ _Faster_ , little girl.”

“Sam, _I can’t_. Please, let me stop,” you whine, trying to keep your voice quiet. “I’ll come, I know I will.”

“I’m pretty sure I told you to _be quiet_ , little girl.”

You press your lips together.

Taking your slick hand in his, Sam takes your fingers away from your clit and guides them down to your opening. “This what you want?”

Staying quiet and pleading with your eyes, you shake your head.

Trading your fingers out for his, Sam slides them inside you. “ _This_ what you want?”

You arch your back, but once again, you shake your head.

Chuckling, he takes his fingers away and uses your slickness to ease the strokes he gives his cock. “Then, what do you want, little girl?” You open your mouth to tell him, but he cuts you off. “I said _be quiet_ , or am I going to get to spank you some more tonight?”

You press your lips together again, answering neither one of Sam’s questions.

“ _What_ do you want?” Sam asks again, his voice dark.

Answering him the only way that you can, you rip your eyes away from Sam’s and look down at his half-hard cock. When you hear him groan like you just wrapped your hand around his dick, you look back up at Sam and open your mouth.

Sounding a little wrecked, he asks, “You still want to blow me, don’t you, little girl?”

Quickly, you nod your head, begging Sam with your eyes again.

“God, I _fucking_ _love_ when you do that.”

Letting go of himself, Sam crawls up the bed next to your face and packs another pillow behind your head, so that your mouth is level with his cock. He watches your eyes stare at it, watching it twitch as it continues to fill, expecting your warm and perfect mouth on it. Sam moves closer, dangles his cock just over your lips, but doesn’t touch them. “Go ahead.”

Instantly, your mouth is on him, sucking his cock into your mouth and cradling it wetly on your tongue. You shift to take more, and Sam lets you.

“So good, little girl,” he gasps, feeling his cock fill more and seeing it stretch your jaw a little bit more. When you swallow another inch, he grunts out, “Just like that. Take it all, little girl. Make my cock nice and hard.”

The angle is wrong, and even though he’s not fully hard, it’s still a struggle to take him all into your mouth and throat. When you gag, Sam pulls himself out a little bit, strokes your cheek, and traces your bottom lip, murmuring how good you are for him.

Sam may just be touching your cheek and lips, but it feels like he’s got his hand between your legs. Every time he touches you, your clit aches. Your hands rest flatly on the bed, the fingertips of your dominant hand soaked with your wetness, and like Sam knows what you want, he picks that hand up and rests it on your mound.

“You wanna touch your wet and needy pussy, don’t you, little girl?”

You nod vigorously, not stopping your mouth from sucking down Sam’s cock; he didn’t say.

Doing it for you, Sam uses your pointer finger to draw soft and delicate lines up and down your aching clit, but after a minute he takes his hand away from yours. “Bring your hands up here, little girl.”

Not taking your mouth of off Sam’s cock, you do what he says, silently moaning when he takes your wrists in one of his hands.

Of course, Sam notices your silent obedience. “Good little girl.”

Thanking him for his throaty praise, you flick your tongue through the slit of his cock. You can actually _feel_ it harden even more on your tongue, and when you move to do it again, Sam slides his cock further into your mouth, just resting on your tongue.

“Spread your legs wide for me, little girl.”

You eagerly do what you’re told, and Sam praises you by dragging one of his fingers lightly over your clit. Your hips rise up off the bed when he takes his hand away, chasing his fingers.

Not giving them back, Sam only asks, “You like it when I spank you, don’t you little girl?”

With more eagerness than before, you nod your head and slurp a few more inches of Sam’s cock into your mouth.

“I knew you did,” he groans like he’s having a conversation with the filthy, wet sounds of your mouth. “You like your ass red just as much as I do, but you know what else I _know_ you like?”

This time, you shake your head and give the tip of Sam’s now fully-hard cock a tight swallow with your throat.

“Fuck, little girl!” Sam shouts, tightening his grasp on your wrists. “I also know you like it when I spank you,” he cups your pussy in his hand and squeezes just a little bit, “Right _here_. Don’t you?”

You want to moan and beg and tell Sam how much you want it, but instead, you answer a different way. Your mouth sucks Sam’s cock harder, your throat constricts around the tip, and your cheeks hollow around his shaft.

“ _Good answer_ , little girl,” he groans, petting your soaked skin with his hand. “You want me to spank your pussy?”

Your hips rise up into Sam’s hand, begging him.

“I love it when you’re so fucking needy like this, little girl,” Sam almost growls, watching your mouth. “The only thing you ever want is my cock in your mouth, and I meant what I said before about keeping you like this for a couple of days.”

Your eyes pop open, your mouth stills on Sam’s shaft, and you look up at him.

He grins down at you and feels you mouth water around his cock. “You liked that too, didn’t you?”

After he sees the shy nod of your head, Sam squeezes his eyes shut and groans, picturing you bound with those leather straps that he bought on Christmas. Your thighs pulled wide, arms above your head, needy and on edge for him for days, begging for his cock. As he has the mental image, Sam feels that ache start to grow in his dick again.

This is the best fucking birthday ever.

Sam starts off slow and soft, just patting your pussy with the palm of his hand. He can see you wiggling on the bed and shoving his cock further into your mouth, hoping that it’ll muffle any sounds that you might make.

As Sam’s hand comes down a little bit harder on your pussy, staying quiet becomes increasingly more difficult for you. Once or twice, little sounds escape past Sam’s cock, but either he doesn’t hear them or doesn’t care.

He’s not spanking you hard; just slapping his hand against your slick skin hard enough to make blood rise just under the surface and make your pussy even more sensitive. He stops after a handful and strokes his fingers through your wetness, pausing to tease your opening and clit, but always goes back to spanking you a little bit harder each time.

Like always, Sam can tell when you’re close to the threshold between pleasure-pain and _too much_ pain. Your knees start to inch closer and closer together, and your toes curl into the bedding.

Giving you a “break,” Sam lightly swirls his finger over your increasingly swollen clit, groaning when he watches your whole body jerk on the bed. Adding more pressure, he does it again. You jerk the same as before, but the second time, a loud moan comes out from around his cock. He spanks your pussy again, the contact much sharper than any of the others. “Quiet, little girl.”

When you nod your head, Sam runs his fingers up and down your slit, then starts lightly patting again. Sometimes he does it soft and slow, other times hard and fast, or variations on all of the above.

As Sam watches you, he sees that you’ve gone from needy to totally wrecked. You’re blowing him like it’ll somehow make _you_ come, trying to swallow his cock, and lick everywhere all at the same time. However, when he starts to feel the slightest burn in the palm of his hand, he takes it away from your pussy and sees that it’s soaked with the evidence of how much you want him.

Sam can’t wait anymore.

Switching out his hand for his body, Sam’s in between your thighs in an instant with your hands still in his fist and above your head.  

“Do you even know what you do to me?” Sam growls against your neck, nipping at it with his teeth. “Spent all _fucking_ day hard in my pants, and it made me want to fuck you on _everything_. Bend you over pool tables and bar stools, not even caring who sees us.”

Your whole body quivers as he kisses his way down your breasts and middle, pausing to look at your pussy like he wants to devour it. “Then, I get you back here, and all I wanna do is taste you.”

When Sam takes a lick, your whole body arcs up against his mouth. Still holding your wrists in one of his hands, he uses his other to push you back down on the bed and hold you there.

“I just wanna watch you squirm for me,” he tells you, his voice like gravel, and he blows a lungful of hot air right again your soaked center, earning him what he wanted. Your hips wiggle under his hand, and your thighs spread further apart in front of his face, searching for his mouth.

“I just wanna listen to you moan and beg.” Sam blows again and sees you fighting to be good. “Do it, little girl. Let me hear it.”

Sam’s breath is agonizingly hot on your pussy. Everything throbs and feels swollen. Your core is achingly empty, while your ass is full of come and stainless steel. As you clench around the nothingness and the come-coated plug, rocking up into the hot breaths that keep coming out of Sam’s mouth, you can feel dribbles of hot come leak out of your ass.

“Please, Sam,” you sob, feeling like you’re going out of your mind, and once you start begging, it’s like you can’t stop. “I need it, Sam. I can’t- ” Sam blows another stream of hot air directly onto your clit. “ _Fuck_! Sam, plea- ” You rock your hips up toward his mouth and almost die when it’s right there.

Sam finally lets your hip go, and strokes your thigh soothingly. “I know you need it, little girl,” he purrs between your legs, licking you as he speaks.

When you moan for more, Sam slowly swirls his tongue around your clit, then takes it away just long enough to say, “And I promised I’d give it to you.”

With his hands strong and huge, Sam gently cradles your body up against his, carefully turns you around, and lays you ass up on the bed. With his body draped over yours, Sam helps you tuck pillows under your chest, and when you’re settled, he kisses his way down your back, until he’s kneeling behind your ass, holding your hips in his hands.

You sob down into the pillows when Sam brushes his cock against your soaked entrance. “Sam,” you moan his name. “ _Please_.”

Giving himself just a second to appreciate the shiny blue stone attached to the butt plug he put in your ass, Sam takes his cock in his hand and slowly eases it inside of you.

“Oh, _shiiit_ ,” Sam gasps when he feels how hot and slick you are, but it’s how tight you are that makes his head spin. The plug filling up your ass – holding in his come – stretches you, effectively tightening your pussy.

He can hardly breathe, and you’re moaning uncontrollably in front of him. Sam’s just watching you, _feeling_ you, and he’s not even in charge of his hips when they start rolling against you, driving his cock into your slick and tight pussy.

Holding your reddened ass in his hands as he fucks you from behind, Sam hooks his thumbs around your round ass cheeks and parts them until he can see steel and sapphire. Every time he thrusts into you, drips of his come leak out around the shiny base of the plug, dribbles down your skin, and adds to your slickness coating his cock.

Watching makes Sam ache, makes him want to come just as hard as he did before, so he runs his thumb over the end of the plug and admires it for as long as he can stand the ache in his cock.

Sliding his hands up, Sam takes you by the waist and pulls you up, so that you’re kneeling in front of him with your back pressed against his chest.

The second that Sam’s got you up from the bed, your head twists around to find his mouth. He kisses away your pleas and swallows everything that you beg, licking at your lips and tongue with his silent promises.

You arc back against him when he takes one of your breasts in his hand, your pussy in the other, still pushing his cock into you. Every inch of your body craves and wants, ever-increasing with each thrust of Sam’s hips, and when his fingers find your clit, your entire body flushes with a heat.

“You know what else I’ve wanted to see for the entire _fucking_ day?” Sam rasps in your ear between grunts. “What I’ve wanted more than _anything_?”

“N-no, Sam,” you barely manage to get out, because as soon as he’s done with his questions, Sam’s lips are back on yours.

“ _This_ ,” he breathes, still gently sliding his finger back and forth over your clit. “ _You_. In _my_ hands. Full of _my_ cock. Coming for _me_. You want that too, little girl?”

“Yes!” you practically shout, vigorously nodding your head. “Yes, Sam.”

Sam chuckles at your enthusiastic answer, but he still doesn’t give you permission to come. The harder he fucks into you, the prettier your noises are. Before, Sam wanted you quiet, but now, he wants to hear every _single_ sound.

“You’ve been _so good_ for me all day. Let me spank your ass so red, wore the plug for me, rode my thigh and made yourself come just like I told you to, begged for my cock- _God_ , you know I love when you do that.”

Being reduced to a vocabulary of about four words, “Please, Sam,” isn’t exactly a new request, but it does give Sam what he wants. He also loves when you beg.

“Wait for me, little girl,” Sam groans huskily in your ear.

Whining, you try to answer him properly, but Sam asks, “I can feel that plug through your pussy. Makes you _so fucking tight_ , little girl. Buried up your ass, holding in _my_ come, filling you up. You like it just as much as I do, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, S- ”

Before you can finish, Sam steals your mouth again, his lips and tongue greedily swallowing down all the noises that you make for him.

Still holding one of your breasts tight in his hand, Sam tweaks and rolls your nipple, making it harder in his fingers. His other hand never leaves your pussy, drawing lines up and down your clit so agonizingly slow that you start to shake against Sam’s chest, seconds away from being unable to hold yourself up any longer.

Sam’s able to feel it. He feels you trembling against him, gushing wetness onto his hand and cock, begging in his mouth, and he wants it just as bad as you. He thrusts into you a couple more times, feels his thighs and groin slap against your ass, and then lets go of the hold on his orgasm. “Come with me, little girl. Right now.”

Sam feels your core pulse around him just before you come. Wanting to feel it all, his hands pull you closer to him and push himself even further inside of you. He needs something more to hang onto, something to anchor him down, but no matter what he does, it’s not enough. Then, he feels you come around him gripping him so tight and so perfectly that Sam doesn’t get the _enough_ that he was craving, he gets _everything._

Just like Sam wanted, exactly at the same second as him, you’re coming all over his cock, begging and thanking him all at the same time. You’re squirming for more – and maybe a little less – and when you twist your head back, searching for his mouth, he gets to taste you.

His tongue licks and moves against yours in time with his thrusts, tasting, taking, and giving all at the same time. Sam tastes the peak of your orgasm, hot and intense on his tongue. He feels it start to ebb, soft and fluid on his cock, and beyond his control, it slips away and leaves behind a satisfied and complete feeling where ache used to hang heavy.

Once Sam’s cock has filled you up with a second round of his hot come, he needs a minute to catch his breath and make his vision clear again. When he does, still holding you in his arms, Sam twists himself around and almost collapses back on the mound of pillows at the head of the bed. Gently rolling your body, he groans when he slips out of you, feeling his cock twitch one last time when you gasp softly at the exit.

Sam keeps you close to him, letting his heavy breaths mix with yours, tenderly brushing his lips along your panting mouth, and enjoying the way that you feel in his hands.

 _This_ is exactly what he wanted.

Blissed and perfectly exhausted, you let Sam take you wherever he wants, sighing contentedly when you’re held tight next to him, completely enveloped with his body. You return his light kisses as best as your limp body will allow, murmuring a quiet, “Happy birthday,” against his lips.

When you feel Sam’s mouth curve up into a breathless smile, for the briefest of seconds, you think about the blue envelope with Sam’s name on it and the matching box hiding in the bottom of your bag, but his continued kisses and gentle touches make you sink into the comfortable and inviting blur that smells and feels just like Sam.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the conclusion of Sam's birthday fic.  
>  _The gift_ is revealed with some lovey-dovey feels, and because this is _Not Unless Sam Says_ , there's some smut too. (of course)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A SUPER huge thank you goes out to [lady_ataralasse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ataralasse/pseuds/lady_ataralasse) for beta'ing for me. She's totally fab, and you should check out her latest series [All You Had to Do Was Ask](http://archiveofourown.org/series/434119).
> 
> I borrowed the card from [Charmed.](http://charmed.wikia.com/wiki/Leo's_Valentine's_Day_Card_to_Piper) I binge watched the whole series a awhile ago, and I thought it fit perfectly.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: [HERE](http://spectaculacular-sammy.tumblr.com/)
> 
> If you're like me and need a visual with somethings, this is [the butt plug](http://i1164.photobucket.com/albums/q574/spectaculacularsammy/6338-001_zpsgo5wjawa.jpg)
> 
> Also, if you don't know what "backseam stockings" are, [HERE's an example](http://i1164.photobucket.com/albums/q574/spectaculacularsammy/lagent-by-agent-provocateur-seam-heel-stockings_zpslrhypgi6.jpg) (it shows a heinie, so maybe don't open this link at work, m'kay?")

It’s well past midnight when Sam pulls the Impala into a truck stop/diner in the middle of nowhere. The gas tank is running a little low, and it’s going to take at least the rest of the night to get back to the bunker.

Dean’s out cold in the passenger seat, the side of his face smushed up against the window, and you’re curled up in a ball, sleeping in a pile of jackets and bags in the back seat.

As soon as Sam parks next to a gas pump, Dean starts to wake up and mumbles, “M’turn t’drive already?”

“You’ve been asleep for over six hours,” Sam tells Dean with a smirk after closing the driver’s side door carefully, so he doesn’t wake you up. “Isn’t that more sleep than you usually get?”

Dean grumbles some more and stretches in his seat, turning back to look at you. He chuckles softly at how you’ve made your little plaid and canvas nest, then gets out of the car. “M’gonna hit the head and go over to that dinner for some coffee and eat some chow off a real plate.” He knows that Sam’s not going to leave you alone while you’re sleeping in the car, so Dean asks, “You want anything?”

Finished pumping gas, Sam flips up the license plate and puts the nozzle back in the gas pump. He doesn’t want anything but sleep, but he knows that you might want something. “Just a sandwich and a bag of chips, not fries.” Fries will be gross by the time you get to them.

“Got it.” Dean nods and starts walking toward the truck stop.

There’s a little parking lot just off to the side of the gas pumps, so Sam moves the Impala there while Dean eats at the diner. You don’t move when the engine turns over, but when Sam turns it off, he sees you shift in your pile of jackets.

Once he gets the driver’s side back door open, he tosses a couple bags up to the front seat, so he’s got room to sit down. When the door’s closed behind him, Sam twists on the seat, slides his arms behind your back and under your knees, and pulls you into his lap.

The lights above the parking lot and Sam jostling you around start to wake up a little bit, but he covers your shoulders with one of his long-sleeved shirts and starts to rub your back. You sigh contentedly and nuzzle your face against Sam’s neck. “You’re warm.”

Smiling, he kisses the top of your head. “Your nose is cold.”

“It won’t be in a minute,” you tease, burying your face just under Sam’s jaw. After a minute, when you’re fully awake, you remember the hidden card and birthday gift wrapped up in your jeans and ask, “Where’s Dean?”

“Went to go get some coffee and food.” Sam holds you tight as he shifts to get comfortable in the backseat. “He’ll be back in a little while. Why?”

“Well…” Sitting up in Sam’s lap, you take a deep breath, anxiety settling in your stomach. “I bought you something…for your birthday”

A little confused, Sam asks, “How come you didn’t give it to me yesterday?”

“I don’t know.” You look down at your hands and spin the silver ring on your pointer finger, but Sam stops you.

Rubbing the top of your hand with his, he tells you, “I know you know how I feel about my birthday. It’s just not something I’ve really celebrated in a long time. I know it’s not just a day for you, but it is for me.”

You sigh.

“But,” Sam continues. “I love that you always remember it and always try to make the day nice for me, and it’s _ridiculously_ cute when you think you can hide tiny boxes and envelopes from me.”

Your mouth falls open. “How did you know?”

Pressing kisses against your agape lips, Sam whispers, “Yesterday, when I helped you get dressed. You had everything folded up in your jeans.”

Crossing your arms, you give him a playfully-annoyed look. “So, you knew this _whole time_.”

“Pretty much.” Sam shrugs. “But I didn’t open them.”

You twist on his lap and get your bag up off the floor. Just like he said, the envelope and box are folded up in your jeans. You take them out and show them to Sam. “Do you _want_ to open them?”

“Of course I do,” he answers and takes the card when you hand it to him.

Before opening it, Sam takes your right hand in his. Just for a second, he looks at the silver band wrapped around your pointer finger. He thumbs at the smooth slope in the middle of the ring’s shiny surface and remembers how nervous he was to give it to you on your birthday. As Sam touches your skin, he can feel your pulse racing through his fingertips.

Like the card you bought him is made from The Dead Sea Scrolls’ papyrus paper, Sam slowly pulls it out of the envelope and carefully flips it around. On the front is a replica of a simple, hand-painted heart. The left side of the heart has a completely different color and shading than the right side, and the symbolism is not lost on Sam. However, he is a little surprised when there’s not a ‘Happy Birthday’ scrawled across the front of the card, just two simple words:

_For you._

Holding your breath, you’re watching every little tiny expression on Sam’s face. He’s practically a professional when it comes to keeping his feeling out of his features, but when you watch him read what the front of the card says, you see his mouth curve into a surprised smile.

“Open it,” you tell him softly, eager to see his face when he reads the rest.

Sam does what you ask of him and is a little astonished when there’s _still_ no bold print, cursive ‘Happy Birthday on the paper. There’s just one tiny, pre-printed word:

 _Always_.

“Wow,” Sam breathes barely louder than a whisper. Overwhelmed and truly touched, he takes a minute to reread the card and brush his thumb over your signature at the bottom, then looks up at you. “This is….” Sam’s voice cracks, and he pauses to take a breath, trying to find the words. “This is _perfect_ ,” he finishes and leans forward to kiss you. “Thank you.”

Sam may have only said five words to you, but his kiss says a million more. Your kiss says just as many, and Sam knows every single one of them.

When the gentle kiss ends, you give him the small box with the blue wrapping paper. “This too.”

Sam Winchester may have some strong intuition and instinct that has proven itself to be right many times before, but when he takes the small box from you, he has no idea what’s inside. He can tell by the look on your face that you’re obviously happy, but can also see that under all that, there’s a little bit of nervousness. As he tears the paper open, that nervousness rubs off onto him.

When you watch Sam pull away the wrapping paper and look inside the box, your heart jumps up in your throat. “Do you like it?”

Sam stares into the box at a simple silver ring with a slope in the middle of the band and raised edges on both top and bottom. It’s very obviously the more masculine version of the ring he gave you for your birthday. “I never told _anybody_ where I had your ring made.” Sam takes the ring out of the box and looks up at you in awe and amazement. “How did you get this?”

You fidget with your own silver ring and answer him playfully cryptic, “I have… _ways_.” Sam’s extremely proficient when it comes to research; some of that _might_ have rubbed off on you.

Intuition and instinct could have never told Sam that _this_ was in the bottom of the that little box, but now that he holds the ring between his thumb and pointer finger, part of him thinks he should have known what it was.

“I measured your finger while you were asleep,” you admit softly, still feeling a little silly about it. “And I know you only wear a watch, so you don’t _have_ to wear it. I just thought-”

“Of course I’ll wear it,” Sam interrupts you and presses his lips to yours. “And, yes, I like it,” he whispers between kisses, “I _love_ it. I love _you_.”

A heavy sigh of relief spills from your mouth as you return Sam’s kisses. “I love you too.”

It’s not that you thought Sam wouldn’t like the ring; it’s just that you thought he might think it’s too much. And sure, Sam giving you a ring for your birthday and you giving him one for his too might look like something akin to an engagement or even something more, but both you and Sam know exactly what the gifts symbolize and what they mean. The two of you have something that there just aren’t words for; it’s been the same since the beginning: you’re _his_.

Sam had “ _Mine._ ” engraved on the inside of your ring, but you chose something else. Taking the ring from Sam’s fingers, you spin it around and show him the engraving on the inside of the thickest part of the band.

_Yours.  
Always._

Knowing that there simply aren’t words that he can say to accurately describe what he’s feeling or tell you how he feels about you or the gift, Sam pulls you tighter to him and kisses you. He uses his mouth and lips on yours to tell you every word that has never existed, and you know _exactly_ what they mean.

While Sam kisses you, you reach for his right hand and slip the silver band on his middle finger. Just like Sam did with your ring, you had the silver band sized for this particular finger because of the multitude of supernatural creatures that have vulnerabilities to the metal. Now, the next time Sam has to throw a punch at one of those creatures, the front of his fist will have a little something extra.

When he feels you ease the ring down his finger, he looks down at his hand, rubs his knuckles together, feeling the foreign piece of silver between his fingers. There’s never been a ring there before, but as Sam looks at it, he thinks that it looks exactly like it belongs.

A few minutes before Dean gets back to the car, you and Sam get yourselves situated in the backseat. Sam’s got his back against the door, and you’re sitting in the ‘V’ of his legs with your back against his chest.

Just like he promised he would, Dean got you a sandwich and chips and a couple of bottles of water. As he drives the Impala down the dark highway, you and Sam share the late night snack, then snuggle back in the seat.

Before he falls asleep, Sam threads his fingers through yours. Both you and he can feel the matching silver bands tucked next to each other on your interlocked fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispers softly and kisses the side of your face.

Reaching up to kiss him properly, you breathe quietly against his lips, “You’re welcome.”

*//*

Two nights later…

Since you were unable to keep Sam’s first present hidden, you went out and bought him something else, hiding it in a place where he’d never think to look.

Dean's gone for a couple of hours, and you have everything ready for Sam’s second present. You take a breath, then hear his footsteps come down the hallway. Quickly, you shut off all the lights in his bedroom and stand in place behind the door.

A second later, Sam walks into his bedroom. He sees that it’s dark and figures that you’re curled up in his bed, already asleep. Because it’s barely after nine o’clock, he chuckles softly, murmuring, “Sleepy girl.”

Wanting to climb into bed with you, Sam pulls his shirts over his head and starts to open his belt, but freezes when you whisper, “Don’t move.”

“What are you-” he starts, but then changes his question. “What's wrong?”

A smile spreads across your lips, and you kiss the middle of his naked back. “Nothing's wrong, I promise. I'm okay.”

Sam sighs in relief. “Then why are you standing here in the dark? I thought you were sleeping.”

“Well.” You wrap your arms around his waist – careful not to let your body touch his – and finish working open his belt and then his button and zipper. “I have one more birthday present for you, and I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“My birthday was _three days ago_ ,” Sam tells you, shaking his head and laughing softly. “And you already got me a present.”

After pushing his jeans and boxer-briefs down to the floor, you start to stroke his hips, running your fingertips through the coarse hairs on the insides of his thighs. “If you don’t want it, I guess I could just take it off and bring it back to the store.”

 _Take it off_? Sam likes the sound of that. Rubbing his hands up and down your arms, he tells you, “Well, _I guess_ I can handle one more birthday present, but just this one. After this, _no more_. Got it?”

“Yes, Sam,” you answer softly, grinning to yourself when he groans. You stroke your hand up Sam’s thigh, completely avoid his cock when you continue to run your fingers through the wiry hairs above it, and then take your hand away to reach for the switch on the wall. The room fills with light. “You can turn around, Sam.”

Spending only a second on toeing off his boots and socks and kicking everything aside, Sam quickly turns around and groans loud and deep when he sees what you’re wearing. “Jesus, little girl.”

Drawing inspiration from the little “outfit” that Sam put you in on Christmas, you chose his birthday present well. Covering you from your toes to your upper thigh are sheer black stockings with a vintage backseam – you opted to upgrade to silk this time, instead of nylon - and other than a matching garter belt around your hips and the little buckles attached to your stockings, you’re completely naked.

Looking down at you, Sam takes in every _single_ detail. Without out a word, he lifts you up and carries you over to the bed, and covers you with his body. Between his kisses he grits out, “Wish I would have known about this. I could have gotten a few things ready.”

“You still can if you want, Sam” you breathe back, gasping when his mouth moves down to your neck and finds that one spot that makes your toes curl. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn right you’re not, little girl,” he grunts possessively against your skin.

You let Sam spread your thighs with his knees, moaning when you feel his hardening cock press against your naked pussy. Looking down, you watch him take your breasts in his hands and push them together, so he can lick from one of your nipples to the other.

“Technically,” you try to start, but end up moaning again when Sam starts using his teeth. “Tech-” You swallow, and Sam chuckles. “ _Technically_ ," you try again. "Since this is part of your birthday present…. Oh, _shit_ , Sam,” you gasp when he sucks hard on one of your nipples.

“You were saying?” he teasingly purrs and lets go of your breasts.

“Never mind,” you sigh, yelping a second later when Sam reaches down and spanks half-way on your hip and half-way on your ass. “OUCH! Never mind, _Sam_.”

“Much better.” He gently rubs his hand over the skin that he spanked. “Now, what were you saying?”

 _I don’t know if I want to tell you now_ , you think to yourself, and Sam raises an eyebrow. You mentally roll your eyes, and he shakes his head and smirks at you.

“I was going to say, _Sam_ , since the outfit is _technically_ part of your birthday present, _Sam_ , we could pretend that it’s still your birthday, _Sam_ , and you could do whatever you wanted to, _Sam_.”

He takes a minute to chuckle at you, and then before you know it, you’re somehow over his knee with your hands held behind your back.

“First of all,” Sam tells you while stroking his hand over your bare ass. “I’m pretty sure I _always_ get to do whatever I want. Right, little girl?”

It doesn’t need to be said that what he’s referring to is everything outside of the safeword. He knows you know this, and you do.

“Yes, Sam,” you answer quickly.

“Good girl.”

_SMACK!_

“Second of all.” His hand runs over your ass and thigh, then caresses your skin through the soft stocking. “I _really_ like these. Did you pick them out just for me?”

Even though Sam can’t see your face, you bite your lip to keep from smiling. “Yes, Sam.”

“ _Very_ good girl.”

_Smack!_

“Third of all, I don’t know _where_ it came from, but you seem to have gotten a smart mouth. Right, little girl?”

Quietly, you answer, “Yes, Sam.”

He spanks your ass four more times, his hand coming down harder than before. When he’s done, he rubs your pink skin, shushing you when you whimper. “Good girl.”

After he’s righted you up on his lap, made sure that you’re okay, and asked if you wanted him to rub some of the Icy/Hot without the hot on your butt – you say ‘no’ because you don’t want to stop – he strokes your mouth with his thumb. “What am I going to do with you and this mouth?”

There’s a glimmer in Sam’s eyes that tells you that he’s totally, one hundred percent messing with you. “I don’t know, Sam,” you answer with a playful shrug.

Sighing like it’s the biggest decision in the world, Sam shakes his head and puts you on the floor, on your knees between his feet.

You have no idea how there’s a pillow already waiting for you, but there is.

“I guess I could have you get that gag out of the drawer. You know the one. The one with the dildo instead of the ball in the front. That one would work well for little girls who have smart mouths.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. Sam knows you’re not a fan of that gag. However, he did once say that the gag would be incentive for you to always be good….

“No?” Sam questions, still sounding like he’s messing with you, but you’re not so sure anymore. “Then _what_ am I going to put in this smart mouth?”

“I don’t know, Sam,” you answer again, much less playful this time around.

Sam hears your breath catch in your throat when he takes his cock in his hand and starts stroking it right in front of your face. “You want it don’t you, little girl?”

Tearing your eyes away from Sam’s fist, you look up at him. “I always want your cock, Sam.”

“Listen to that mouth.” Sam clicks his tongue and shakes his head, feigning disappointment, but he really _loves_ your naughty mouth. “I’m not sure that little girls are supposed to say that word. Now, I’m _definitely_ going to have to fill up that mouth with something to keep you from saying naughty things like that.”

Now, you’re nine _thousand_ percent sure that he’s messing with you. Biting your lip, you make your voice as innocent as possible. “Sam, you mean I’m not _supposed to tell you_ how much I want to suck your big cock?”

“I mean it, little girl,” Sam warns, stroking himself a little faster. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you talk at all.”

“But, _Sam_ ,” you whine, pretending to be petulant. “I love when you let me suck your cock. It makes my pussy so wet, especially when you fuck my throat with your big, _long-_ ”

Sam lets go of his cock and has your chin in his hand faster than you can even think. “Someone’s _extra_ naughty today,” he states dark and low, eyes glittering with anticipation. “What did I _just say_ , little girl?”

Sam’s tone makes you ache and makes your center grow warm. God, you want him. “Sam, you said, if I keep talking like that, you’re not going to let me talk at all.”

“That’s right.” He grins and traces your bottom lip with his thumb. “So, I guess I’m going to have to find something for your naughty mouth to do, aren’t I?”

“Yes, Sam,” you answer, your voice raspy with need.

Giving you what he knows you want, Sam thumbs your lips apart. “Open up for me, little girl. I know _exactly_ what I can do to keep this naughty mouth busy.”

Wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, Sam eases your open mouth around the tip of is cock. Both you and he groan when he glides along your tongue, but when you seal your lips tight around his shaft, Sam moves your head a couple of times, then takes his hand away. “Keep going, little girl.”

Once you get a good rhythm going, you move to bring one of your hands up to stroke what you can’t easily fit into your mouth, but Sam grabs it and puts it on his hip, rubbing the tops of your knuckles with his fingertips. You know what he means when he taps the top of your hand, and you silently reply with three taps of your own, signaling that you know what you’re to do if anything becomes too much.

“ _Very good_ , little girl,” Sam praises and slides his fingers into your hair, gently taking a fistful and using it to pull you even closer to him. When he feels your throat clench around the very tip of his cock, he slowly pulls your mouth off of him, only to start moving your head again. “Use your other hand to rub your clit, little girl. Make sure that pussy is nice and wet for me when I get to it. _Do not come._ ”

Spreading your thighs wide, you bring your hand between your legs and circle your clit in time with how Sam’s moving your head. Your other hand grips his hip tightly, absolutely loving what he’s giving you and how he’s _keeping your mouth busy_.

You flick your tongue over all the spots that you know Sam loves and suck when he leaves the head of his cock just inside your lips. When you keep your lips tight around him, hollowing out your cheeks as he pushes your mouth back over him, you can feel Sam’s hand tighten in your hair. You hear him throw out all kinds of filthy praises that make you want to do it all over again, but Sam pulls your mouth off of his cock.

“That’s enough, little girl,” he pants, taking your hand away from your pussy and lifting you up on the bed. “On your back.”

Just as you get settled back on the pillows, you see Sam standing in front of his dresser with the top drawer open. After a minute of digging through the multitude of toys that you and he have acquired over the years, Sam comes back holding a bottle of lube in one of his hands, and what you think is the stainless steel butt plug from the night of Sam’s actual birthday.

You’re wrong. It’s _bigger_.

“When I bought this,” Sam begins to explain as he climbs up on the bed and kneels between your bent and spread knees. “I bought a smaller one too, which is the one that we used the other day.” He shows the larger plug to you. The stone at the end is a lighter blue, more of an aquamarine, but you’re paying more attention to the large tulip-shaped part that will eventually go in your ass. “Since we both liked it so much,” Sam starts again. “I thought we could try this one.”

The very idea makes you even more wet than you already are, and when you spread your knees even further apart – telling Sam that you’d _very much_ like to try the larger plug – he groans when he sees exactly how wet you are.

After squeezing some of the lube onto the tips of his fingers, Sam uses his other arm to hook under your knees and push them up against your chest. Just like every other time, he takes his time working you open, one finger at a time, until he’s got three of his long and thick fingers inside of your ass, twisting and scissoring your inner muscles loose. And just like the last time that Sam did this, once he starts to slowly fuck your ass with his fingers, you begin to feel a warmth fan across your skin, and you moan.

“Really?” Sam asks, still so fucking shocked that he _could_ make you come this way. After you nod your head and answer appropriately, he pulls his fingers out of you and starts to lube up the plug. “Just wait, little girl; not yet.”

You breathe deeply when Sam slowly starts to ease the plug inside of you – a quarter inch in, a quarter inch out, over and over and _over_ again, until he decides to start on the next quarter inch. Low moans escape your lips when he praises you, kissing your skin through the stockings on your legs. Wanting him to touch you more, you reach down and grab the backs of your knees, and because Sam knows exactly what you want, he strokes your quivering thighs.

“Almost done, little girl. Keep breathing for me.”

This plug isn’t the largest that Sam’s ever worked into your ass, but you can still feel the steel stretching you. When he gets it far enough inside of you, and the thickest part of the plug stretches your rim, the urge to come is almost overwhelming. Your hands grip the backs of your knees tighter, your head is lolling back and forth on the pillows, and you’re trying like hell not to rock your hips up into the little thrusts that Sam’s giving you as he gently pushes the plug further into your ass.

Of course, Sam’s watching _everything_ that you’re doing. He sees how you can’t seem to keep still, how you’re shaking and sweating a little around your hairline. Deep groans rumble low in his chest, all in appreciation for how good you’re being for him.

After he eases the last part of the plug inside of you, and the light blue stone shines against your skin, Sam gives your raised leg a kiss, tonging your skin through the soft stockings. “There, little girl. All done.”

When you whine out his name, Sam just _has_ to know if you can really come just from him fucking you with the plug, so he slowly eases it back out of you, until the thickest part pulls your rim wide. He groans when a line of wetness dribbles out of your empty pussy.

“I’m not sure who likes this more, little girl. Me or you?” He’s doesn’t know if you can even talk, but he tries anyway. “Why don’t you tell me why you like it so much?”

“Full,” you choke out, gasping as Sam keeps moving the plug in and out of you. “Makes me feel _so full_ when you’re inside me, Sam.”

Feeling a thick line of pre-come slide down his shaft, Sam takes himself in his other hand and starts to stroke his cock in time with how he’s fucking you with the plug. “What about how it makes you want to come even though your pussy’s still empty? If I let you, could you come right now?”

“Yes, Sam,” you answer quickly, feeling your orgasm _right there_. “Please.”

“But, little girl, don’t you want to hear why _I_ like this plug so much?”

You whine a needy sound, but because you’re supposed to, you moan out, “Yes, Sam.”

Still sliding the plug in and out of you, but at a much slower pace, he tells you, “I don’t know what it is, but with this plug, you get so fucking wet. I don’t need to touch your pussy at all; I just get to push my cock in, and you feel so tight and wet, just for me. And I can feel it when I fuck you, feel your ass stretched open, clenching down on me and the plug.” Still fisting his cock, Sam groans. “But before I do that, I wanna see you come _just_ _like_ _this_.” He moves the plug faster, fucking you with it harder. “C’mon, little girl, come for me.”

Just as you let go and let your orgasm plow through you, you gasp through your moans when Sam pushes his cock into your empty and fluttering pussy. Almost immediately, he starts fucking you hard as you continue to come, angled the exact right way, and before your first orgasm can run its course, you’re begging him to let you come again.

“Go ahead, little girl,” Sam grunts out, loving the way that you’re clenching around him. “Give me another one.”

Another scream rips itself from your throat when your first orgasm melts into a second one. It starts at the tips of your toes, makes your legs curl around Sam’s hips, and forces you to grab onto his back, clinging to every ounce of what he’s giving you.

A few seconds later, when you come back to yourself, Sam’s slowed down his thrusts considerably; he’s just rocking against you, enjoying all the little squeezes and clenches that your hot and wet pussy is giving his solid cock.

“Such a good girl for me,” he purrs soothingly, watching you catch your breath.

Once you have, he brings one of his hands down between his body and yours and starts to thumb at your swollen clit. You jerk from over-sensitivity, but Sam holds you in place with his other hand and softens the touches he gives you with his thumb.

“You feel _so fucking good_ , little girl,” Sam groans, moving his face down to your chest, so that he can mouth at your nipples. “So fucking perfect wrapped all slick and warm around my cock, but I wanna see you come again.”

Even though Sam’s lightened his touch on your clit, your thighs still twitch with every pass of his thumb. You whine.

“Oh, not yet, little girl. Don’t worry,” he assures you and flicks his tongue over one of your nipples. “You know I love to hear you beg for it.”

After showing both of your nipples the same attention, making them shine from his tongue, Sam takes your hips in both of his hands and starts to pull you into his thrusts. He starts out slow and hard, making his skin slap against yours.

You always think that coming more than a couple of times is next to impossible, but Sam _always_ proves you wrong. Every _single_ time that he moves, his cock pushes against your g-spot, making you wildly cry out and the orgasm that you didn’t even know was possible rise to the surface.

“You like that, don’t you, little girl?”

“Yes! _Oh, God_. Yes, Sam,” you bleat, trying to move against him to make him crash that much harder into you.

“I can feel how close you are, little girl. You wanna come?”

“Yes!” you wail. “Yes, Sam!”

“You know what I want.” Sam sits back on his heels, pulls you up onto his thighs, and starts bouncing you up and down on his cock. He groans when your arms and legs automatically wrap around his neck and waist, and with his lips against yours, he grits out so low that it’s almost a growl, “Give it to me, little girl, and I’ll let you come.”

“Please, Sam,” you beg frantically against his lips. “Please, let me come. I can’t- I _need_ to. _Oh, God, please_ , Sam, let me come.”

“You beg _so pretty_ , little girl, but where’s that naughty fucking mouth that I heard earlier? Talking about how wet I make your pussy and how much you like my cock. Where’d all that go, huh, little girl?”

“Please, Sam. I need to-”

“No, little girl.” Sam stops moving you over his cock, reaches up with one of his hands, and holds your chin. “You know I love this naughty little mouth. Either you give it to me, or I’ll stop everything right now and put my dick back in it.”

You watch a hungry smirk twitch on Sam’s lips when your whole body shivers. He might talk about _your_ mouth, but Sam’s got a filthy fucking mouth that could make you come even if he wasn’t in the same state as you.

“Sam, please,” you murmur and gasp for a breath. “Fuck me.”

Pulling on your chin, Sam brushes his lips against yours. “Why?” he asks in a dark voice.

A little whine falls out of your mouth when you feel your edge slipping away, but you look up at Sam, knowing _exactly_ what he wants to hear. “So you can feel my wet and needy pussy clench around your big, huge, _long_ fucking cock when you let me come.” You pause a half-second too long and then lick your lips. “ _Sam_.”

When he groans, you can feel him twitch inside you, and Sam starts to slowly move your hips again. “Good fucking answer, little girl. I think I love this naughty little mouth just as much as you love sucking my cock.”

“Yes, Sam.” You nod your head quickly. “Please, _please_ , fuck me harder.”

God, Sam loves when you beg; he could listen to you do it for hours. “Like this?” He pulls you down over him just a little bit harder, barely going any faster.

A miserable sound falls out of your mouth, and before you can beg some more, Sam’s lips are on yours. “So good for me, little girl.” He starts moving your hips faster and harder. “Take it as long as you can. Tell me when you _absolutely_ can’t hold it anymore.”

After you promise that you’ll do what you’re told, Sam moves you _exactly_ the way both he and you want it.

It only takes a minute of Sam’s cock filling you up, the way his hands hold you so tightly, moving you perfectly into his thrusts as he kisses you hard on the mouth. When you feel yourself _right there_ , you breathe against his lips, “ _Sam_ , _please_.”

“God, you’re so good for me,” he groans, looking at how you’re a mess in his arms. “Yeah, little girl. Come for me.”

Watching you, Sam both feels and sees your whole body seize up around his cock. He’s never been sure if you know you’re doing it, but once you start to come, your hips start to do this little curling thing. This time is no different, and once you start, Sam’s fucking lost.

You’re still coming when Sam pushes you back down on the pillows, kissing the sounds that you don’t know you’re making right out of your mouth. Your body sings under the warm and heavy weight of his body. His groans reverberate through every inch of your skin – from your lips to your toes and everywhere in between – and when Sam fucks himself through the last of his orgasm, a multitude of tiny sparks fire off every single place he’s touching you.

Collapsing on top you, Sam can feel your racing heart pound in your chest through his cheek. He starts to roll off of you and take you with him, but he stops when he feels your stocking-covered legs wrap tighter around his hips. He laughs softly when you hold him in place, but then sighs when you start rubbing his ass and thighs with your legs and feet – he loves the way the stocking feel against his skin.

After tracing his fingertips up and down the black, satin ribbons that connect the garter belt to the cuffs on your stockings for a few minutes, Sam asks, “Silk?”

“Mmm hmm,” you moan, still a little breathless from the moments prior.

Chuckling at how cute you sound, Sam presses kisses into your skin until your breathing evens out. “You okay?”

“ _Very_ ,” you moan, smiling when Sam’s kisses reach up to your mouth.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just this,” you sigh, carding your fingers through his hair.

Sam kisses you again, then rests his head back down on your chest. When your heart slows back down to a normal pace, he strokes his finger up and down the backseam on your stockings, absolutely loving the vintage-vibe that they have. “Did you get these at that place in Wichita?”

“Yup,” you answer softly, grinning to yourself, because you know Sam is rather fond of garter belts and stockings.

“When I got you your Christmas present, I didn’t see the silk ones.”

“Hmmm. Well, it’s good to know that you like them.”

Picking his head up off of your chest, Sam looks at you. “You bought all the colors you could find, didn’t you?”

Your grin widens.

Taking your hands in his, Sam laces his fingers with yours. You can feel his ring pressing into the sides of your fingers, and he can feel yours too.

Thinking back to everything that you and he did on his actual birthday, the card you gave him, the ring, tonight, and now the lingerie with every color of silk stocking imaginable, just waiting for him to and see and feel and enjoy – not to mention everything that you do for him _every single day_ – Sam sees your grin and kisses it, groaning, “God, I love you.”

Before you can say it back, a squeal slips out of your mouth when Sam scoops you up off the bed and carries you down to the showers.

Once he carefully pulls off the stockings and garter belt, he moves under the warm spray of water, keeping your body tight to his. His touch is tender when he gently eases the plug out of you, and after making sure that you’re okay and giving you _dozens_ more kisses, he slyly whispers in your ear that the plug and many, _many_ others like are going to end up being some of the more well-used toys in his collection.

Of course, you don’t have _any_ complaints, so you let Sam wash every inch of your body and cover it with more soft kisses. When he’s satisfied with the attention his mouth has given your body, he wraps you in a soft towel, and then carries you back to his bedroom.

When the door closes behind him, Sam puts you down and watches you walk toward the dresser to look for something to sleep in.

“You want to go to bed already?” he teases, noticing that it’s not even midnight yet, laughing at you just a little bit.

“Yes, I want to go to bed!” You laugh. Before tugging one of Sam’s V-neck shirts over your head, you step up on your tiptoes to meet his mouth and whisper against his lips, “You and your big fucking cock wore me out.”

Sam tugs away your towel, lets his fall to the floor, and pushes you back down on the bed. He’s between your knees in a second and kisses you until you can hardly breathe. “God, I love your naughty fucking mouth.”

 


End file.
